THE  LIBRARY 


OF 


THE 


OF 


UNIVERSITY 
CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


MEMORIAL 


OF 


CHARLES   SUMNER, 


"HIS  EULOGY  IS  HIS  LIFE;  HIS  EPITAPH  IS  THE  GENERAL  GRIEF; 
HIS  MONUMENT,  BUILDED  BY  HIS  OWN  HANDS,  IS  THE  ETERNAL 
STATUTES  OF  FREEDOM." 

Senator  Anthony's  Speech  in  the  United  States  Senate. 


BOSTON: 

1874. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


(Commonfofaltf)  of 


PRINTED  BY  ORDER  OF  THE  LEGISLATURE. 


WRIGHT   &   POTTER, 

PRINTEKS    TO    THE     STATE 


CHARLES     SUMNER. 


COMMONWEALTH   OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 


IN  SENATE,  June  16,  1874. 

ORDERED,  That  the  Joint  Special  Committee  appointed  to  take  suit 
able  measures  to  provide  for  the  delivery  of  an  Oration  upon  the  life, 
character  and  public  services  of  CHARLES  SUMNER,  be  directed  to  pre 
pare  a  Memorial  Volume  containing  the  proceedings  in  the  Legislature 
on  the  receipt  of  the  intelligence  of  the  decease  of  our  late  Senator ;  the 
account  of  the  Funeral  and  Commemorative  Services,  and  a  copy  of  the 
Eulogy  delivered  by  GEORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS,  and  the  Poem  by  JOHN 
G.  WHITTIER  ;  and  that  five  thousand  copies  of  such  Memorial  be  printed 
and  bound  for  the  use  of  the  Legislature.  And  that  each  member  of  the 
Legislature,  the  Clerk  and  Chaplain  of  each  branch,  and  the  Sergeaiit- 
at-arrns  bo  allowed  ten  copies  each,  and  the  other  officers  of  the  Legisla 
ture,  and  the  reporters  to  whom  seats  are  allotted  in  the  two  branches, 
and  each  city  and  town  in  the  Commonwealth,  one  copy  each ;  the 
residue  to  be  distributed  or  otherwise  disposed  of  according  to  the  best 
discretion  of  the  Committee. 

Adopted.  S.  BT.  GIFFOKD,  Clerk. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  June  17,  1874. 
Adopted  in  concurrence. 

GEO.  A.  HARDEN,  Clerk. 


REPORT   OF  THE   COMMITTEE. 


THE  undersigned  Joint  Special  Committee,  acting  under  the  preced 
ing  Order,  herewith  submit  the  MEMORIAL  VOLUME  which  they  wrere 
directed  to  prepare. 

The  Committee  have  asked  Mr.  WILLIAM  Ho  WELL  REED  to  give  his 
editorial  supervision  to  the  several  reports  and  documents,  in  order  to 
insure  a  completeness  and  precision,  Avithout  which  the  work  would  lose 
its  value.  They  are  entirely  satisfied  with  his  work,  and  as  the  volume 
has  taken  form  under  his  direction,  they  may  say  with  propriety  that 
they  believe  it  will  fully  meet  the  wishes  of  the  General  Court. 

MOODY  MERRILL. 
GEORGE   F.  VERRY. 
JOSHUA  B.  SMITH. 
WILLARD   P.  PHILLIPS. 
SMITH  R.  PHILLIPS. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

LEGISLATIVE  ORDER, 7 

REPORT  OF  THE  COMMITTEE, 7 

DEATH  OF  CHARLES  SUMNER, 9 

ACTION  OF  THE  EXECUTIVE  AND  LEGISLATIVE  DEPARTMENTS  : 

MESSAGE  OF  THE  GOVERNOR, 17 

PROCEEDINGS  IN  THE  SENATE, 23 

PROCEEDINGS  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,      ...  43 

PROCLAMATION  BY  THE  GOVERNOR, 64 

THE  OBSEQUIES, 65 

COMMEMORATIVE  OBSERVANCES,  JUNE  9,  1874, 91 

POEM  BY  JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER, 97 

EULOGY  BY  GEORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS,  JUNE  9,  1874,      ....  107 
APPENDIX  : 

EULOGY  BY  CARL  SCHURZ,  APRIL  29,  1874, 179 

ORATION  BY  ROBERT  B.  ELLIOTT,  APRIL  14,  1874,         .        .        .  265 
SERMON  BY  HENRY  W.  FOOTE,  MARCH  22,  1874,    .        .       .        .289 

TABLET, 317 


DEATH  OF  CHARLES  SUMNER. 


DEATH  OF  CHARLES  SUMNER. 


CHARLES  SUMNER  died  at  his  residence,  in  Washing 
ton,  at  thirteen  minutes  before  three  o'clock  on  Wednes 
day  afternoon,  the  eleventh  day  of  March,  1874. 

He  left  his  seat  in  the  Senate  Chamber  for  the  last 
time  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  with  a  premonition  of  the 
sufferings  which  so  soon  ended  in  his  death. 

About  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  he  sent  for  his 
physician,  Dr.  Joseph  Tabor  Johnson,  who  administered 
the  prescription  of  morphia,  made  by  Dr.  Brown-Sequard, 
but  the  pain  increased.  At  twenty  minutes  past  ten, 
the  doctor  announced  that  the  usual  reaction  had  not 
taken  place,  and  that  his  patient  was  in  serious  danger. 
His  pulse  could  scarcely  be  felt.  Powerful  restoratives 
were  at  once  given,  external  applications  made,  and  a 
consultation  of  physicians  promptly  called.  Through 
the  night,  stimulants  wrere  administered,  but  at  eight 
o'clock  on  Wednesday  morning,  it  was  felt  that  the 
patient  was  in  a  hopeless  condition. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  stupor  passed  away,  and  Mr. 
SUMNER  recognized  his  friends,  with  a  few  words  of 
greeting.  He  complained  of  great  fatigue,  but  of  no 
pain,  except  when  he  moved  of  his  own  strength.  He 
was,  he  said,  tired  in  every  nerve  and  muscle,  even  in 


12  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

his  bones.  He  wanted  rest,  and  begged  for  more  mor 
phine  to  allay  his  weariness. 

He  had  spoken  several  times  during  the  morning  of 
the  Civil  Rights  Bill,  whose  passage  he  had  much  at 
heart.  On  one  occasion,  recognizing  Judge  Hoar,  who 
was  standing  at  his  bedside,  he  said,  "You  must  take 
care  of  the  Civil  Rights  Bill,  Judge"  "  to  which  the  reply 
was  made,  "We  will  take  care  of  it." 

At  a  later  period  he  said,  "  Judge,  it  is  very  good  in 
you  to  come."  About  two  hours  before  the  Senator's 
death,  sitting  on  a  low  chair  by  his  bed,  and  chafing  his 
hand  and  arm,  the  Judge  said,  "  I  wish  we  could  do 
something  to  make  your  hands  warmer."  To  which  Mr. 
SUMNER  replied,  after  a  pause,  and  looking  steadily 
into  the  face  of  his  friend,  "You  never  ivill" 

At  a  still  later  moment,  and  about  fifteen  minutes 
before  Mr.  SUMNER  died,  giving  his  hand  to  Judge  Hoar, 
who  was  at  his  side,  he  said,  "Judge,  tell  Emerson  how 
much  I  love  and  revere  him."  To  which  Jtidcre  Hoar 

O 

replied,  "He  said  of  you,  that  he  never  knew  so  white  a 
soul." 

With  the  exception  of  a  word  or  two  casually  spoken 
a  few  moments  afterwards,  this  message  to  Mr.  Emerson 
was  the  last  utterance  of  Mr.  SUMNER. 

After  sleeping  a  few  moments  he  was  awakened,  prob 
ably  by  a  violent  nausea,  and  raised  himself  in  bed ;  but 
after  the  convulsive  effort  for  relief  was  made,  and  even 
while  his  friends  were  bathing  his  face  and  lips,  and 
before  he  could  be  laid  back  upon  his  pillow,  the  action 
of  the  heart  ceased,  and  CHARLES  SUMNER  was  dead. 

High    medical    authority    states    the    disorder   to    have 


HIS    DEATH.  13 

been  Angina  Pectoris,  in  this  instance  arising  from  an 
enlarged  and  diseased  state  of  the  right  coronary  artery. 
It  is  a  disorder  which  often  terminates  fatally  after  a  few 
paroxysms. 

Twenty-three  years  of  illustrious  service  to  the  Com 
monwealth  and  the  Nation,  give  to  Massachusetts  the 
high  privilege  of  a  grateful  recognition  of  their  priceless 
value. 

"No  pyramids  set  off  his  memories,"  but  those  who 
loved  him  for  his  gracious  personal  qualities  of  heart 
and  life,  may  join  in  the  requiem  : 

"  And  now  he  rests ;   his  greatness  and  his  sweetness 

No  more  shall  seem  at  strife, 
And  death  has  moulded  into  calm  completeness 
The  statue  of  his  life." 


ACTION  OF  THE  EXECUTIVE  AND  LEGISLATIVE 
DEPARTMENTS. 


MESSAGE    OF    THE    GOVERNOR, 


CO  MINI  ON  WEALTH      OF      MASSACHUSETTS. 

EXECUTIVE  DEPARTMENT,  BOSTOX,  March  12,  187-i. 
Gentlemen  of  the  Senate  and  of  the  House  of  Representatives: 

IT  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  announce  to  you  the 
death  of  our  senior  member  in  the  United  States  Senate. 
Yesterday  afternoon,  at  ten  minutes  before  three  o'clock, 
in  his  own  rooms  at  Washington,  at  the  age  of  sixty- 
three  years,  CHAKLES  SUMNEK  departed  this  life. 

Eighteen  years  ago  he  was  struck  down  at  his  place  in 
the  vanguard  of  freedom,  and  from  that  terrible  wound, 
nigh  unto  death,  he  never  fully  recovered,  though  he 
struggled  against  its  effects  with  all  the  forces  of  his 
nature,  and  was  aided  by  the  best  efforts  of  medical  sci 
ence.  But  he  had  regained  such  a  measure  of  health  and 
strength,  that  of  late  his  intimate  friends  and  associates 
were  encouraged  to  hope  he  might  be  spared  to  us  for 
some  years  longer.  The  shock  of  his  death  comes  upon 
us  suddenly,  and  when  least  expected.  The  last  enemy 
of  man  has  finally  triumphed,  and  our  great  orator, 
scholar,  statesman,  philanthropist, — the  champion  of  uni 
versal  freedom  and  the  equal  rights  of  man, — after  a  life 
of  labor  and  usefulness,  has  fallen  under  the  burden  of 
disease  long  and  heroically  borne. 

Of  him,  as  much  as  of  any  man  of  his  time,  it  may  be 
said,  that  he  lived  not  for  himself  or  his  kindred.  A 
special  representative  of  this  State,  his  Commonwealth 
was  the  whole  country.  For  years  one  of  the  most  proni- 

3 


18  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

incut  and  influential  citizens  of  the  United  States,  he  was 
recognized  by  the  civilized  world  as  one  of  the  foremost 
advocates  of  struggling  humanity.  Thus  acknowledged 
at  home  and  abroad,  his  death  will  be  deeply  and  sin 
cerely  mourned,  not  alone  by  his  State  and  this  Nation, 
but  by  every  people  and  country  reaching  out  for  a 
higher  and  freer  life. 

Twenty-three  years  ago  this  spring  he  was  elected  to 
the  United  States  Senate,  and  at  the  time  of  his  death  he 
was  the  senior  member  of  that  body  in  length  of  consecu 
tive  service.  His  devotion  to  the  duties  of  his  place  was 
an  example  worthy  of  general  commendation.  He  rarely 
allowed  personal  considerations  of  any  kind  to  interfere 
with  his  public  obligations.  Had  he  not  been  blessed 
with  an  iron  constitution,  he  must  long  ago  have  suc 
cumbed  to  the  weight  of  his  labors.  Devoted  to  many 
phases  of  one  comprehensive  cause,  the  advancement  of 
man  ;  throwing  himself  with  great  energy  and  power  into 
whatever  work  he  undertook ;  it  was  given  him  to  see  a 
noble  triumph  of  that  for  which  he  aspired  and  wrought. 
Thousands  and  thousands  of  men  and  Avomen  find  the 
way  of  life  easier  and  brighter  because  of  him,  and  in 
almost  every  town  and  village  of  the  country,  there  will 
be  praises  of  honor  to  his  name. 

During  his  long  period  of  service  some  mistakes  he 
doubtless  made,  for  despite  his  great  learning  and  intel 
lectual  grasp  he  somewhat  lacked  the  evcry-day  wisdom 
frequently  given  to  those  much  his  inferiors.  But  this 
was  in  no  sense  to  his  discredit  as  a  man.  His  aims  were 
high,  his  purposes  were  pure.  His  voice  was  that  of  an 
honest  man,  his  endeavors  were  those  of  an  upright 
statesman.  His  moral  integrity  stands  out  as  a  sublime 
figure  in  these  later  years.  While  the  atmosphere  around 
him  was  foul  with  corruption,  no  stain  of  suspicion  ever 
fell  upon  him.  However  other  public  servants  prostituted 
their  positions  for  selfish  ends,  we  all  felt  sure  that 


MESSAGE    OF    THE    GOVERNOR.  19 

CHARLES  SUMNER  would  not  be  smirched  by  any  dis 
closures  or  investigations.  This  single  fact  alone  is 
enough  to  crown  him  with  glory. 

Gentlemen,  yon  must  have  unspeakable  satisfaction 
at  this  hour  in  your  recent  action  on  the  matter  relative 
to  the  army  register  and  national  battle-flags.  It  was 
communicated  to  Mr.  Sumner  while  he  was  in  the  full 
possession  of  all  his  faculties,  and  we  may  well  believe 
that  he  rejoiced  in  this  vindication  by  the  constituents 
whom  he  had  so  long  and  so  faithfully  served.  I  thank 
you  for  giving  me  the  pleasure  of  transmitting  to  him,  by 
the  hands  of  one  whom  he  honored,  a  representative  of 
those  for  whom  he  had  so  heroically  struggled,  this  fresh 
token  of  the  regard  in  which  he  was  held  by  the  people 
of  this  Commonwealth. 

It  was  his  desire,  often  expressed,  that  he  might  fall, 
when  fall  he  must,  while  at  the  post  of  duty.  His  wishes 
in  this  respect  were  gratified.  The  day  before  his  death 
he  was  at  the  Senate  Chamber  attending  to  official  business 
as  our  agent  and  servant;  and  one  of  his  last  utterances, 
when  in  the  very  arms  of  death,  was  a  request  to  an 
intimate  friend  to  take  care  of  the  civil  rights  bill,  the 
passage  of  which  he  had  much  at  heart.  Thus  he  went 
out  from  among  us,  with  his  last  moment  of  conscious 
ness  still  pleading,  as  he  had  so  often  and  so  eloquently 
plead  through  many  years  of  vigorous  manhood,  for  the 
down-trodden  and  oppressed. 

The  great  Senator  has  fallen,  and  we  shall  see  him  no 
more  on  earth.  Being  dead  he  yet  speaketh  —  by  the 
hopes  he  inspired,  the  works  he  accomplished  and  the 
recollection  of  his  virtues.  In  a  few  days  his  mortal 
remains  will  be  laid  away  in  the  grave.  Be  it  ours  to 
guard  most  tenderly  the  memory  he  hath  left  to  us, 
and  approve  ourselves  the  fit  constituents  of  CHARLES 
SUMNER. 

W.  B.  WASHBUKN. 


20  CIIAELES    SUMMER. 


COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS, 


IN  SENATE,  March  12,  1874. 

ORDERED,  That  the  message  of  His  Excellency  the  Gov 
ernor,  communicating  the  melancholy  intelligence  of  the 
sudden  death  of  Hon.  CHARLES  SUMNER,  senior  Senator 
of  Massachusetts  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
be  referred  to  a  Joint  Special  Committee  of  five  members 
of  the  Senate  with  such  as  the  House  may  join,  with 
instructions  to  consider  and  report  what  measures  it  may 
be  expedient  and  proper  to  adopt  as  a  recognition  of  the 
important  services  of  the  late  distinguished  Senator,  and 
a  public  acknowledgment  of  the  grateful  esteem  in  which 
his  memory  and  character  are  held  by  the  people  of  the 
Commonwealth. 

And  Messrs.  BANKS,  NORCROSS,  WASHBURN,  HA  WES 
and  LATHROP  were  appointed  on  the  part  of  the  Senate. 

Sent  down  for  concurrence. 

S.  N.  GIFFO11D,  Clerk. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  March  12,  1874. 

Concurred,  and  Messrs.  PHILLIPS  of  Salem,  SMITH  of 
Cambridge,  CODMAN  of  Boston,  KIMBALL  of  Boston, 
ADAMS  of  Quincy,  DICKINSON  of  Amherst,  NOBLE  of 
Westfield,  PHILLIPS  of  Springfield,  BUFFUM  of  Lynn, 
BLUNT  of  Haverhill,  SLADE  of  Somerset,  CUMMINGS  of 
AVoburn,  and  ESTABROOK  of  Worcester,  are  joined. 

GEO.  A.  MARDEN,  Clerk. 


RESOLUTIONS.  21 


RESOLUTIONS, 


IN  SENATE,  March  13,  1874. 

THE  following  Resolutions  were  reported  by  Hon.  NATHANIEL  P. 
BANKS,  in  behalf  of  the  Joint  Special  Committee  on  the  Message  of 
the  Governor,  announcing  the  death  of  Mr.  SUMNER  : — 


COMMONWEALTH     OF    MASSACHUSETTS. 
In  the  Year  One  Thousand  Eight  Hundred  and  Seventy-Four. 

RESOLVES  ON  THE  DEATH  OF  CHARLES  SUMNER. 

RESOLVED,  That  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  re 
ceives  the  sad  intelligence  communicated  by  His  Excel 
lency  the  Governor,  of  the  sudden  death  of  the  Honorable 
CHARLES  SUMNER,  senior  Senator  of  Massachusetts  in  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States,  with  emotions  of  profound 
and  abiding  grief. 

RESOLVED,  That,  in  this  sudden  calamity,  Massachusetts 
mourns  the  loss  of  an  inestimable  public  servant,  whose 
separate  qualities  are  sometimes  found  in  individual  citi 
zens,  but  rarely  united  in  one  man.  His  industry  was 
tireless,  and  his  fidelity  unlimited.  In  the  prosecution  of 
those  great  measures  to  which  he  gave  his  support,  his 
energy,  constancy  and  courage  were  unconquerable.  In 
his  contests  for  the  supremacy  of  the  principles  upon  which 
he  had  staked  the  hazard  of  his  life,  he  was  unmoved  by 
assault  and  insensible  to  fear.  Against  the  allurements  of 
power  and  of  corruption,  in  every  form,  he  stood  a  tower 
of  adamant.  At  every  crisis  in  public  affairs  his  bearing 
was  that  of  one  who,  confident  as  to  his  own  duty,  was 


22  CHARLES    SUMXEK. 

considerate  of  the  rights  of  others.  His  extraordinary 
acquisitions  as  a  scholar,  made  him  eminent  among  able 
men  in  every  department  of  learning.  He  was  an  accom 
plished  legist  and  jurist,  and  as  an  orator  unsurpassed 
by  any  man  of  his  time.  The  vigor  of  his  intellect ;  his 
great  experience  and  capacity ;  his  philanthropic  spirit ; 
his  ardent  patriotism ;  his  irrepressible  love  of  liberty ; 
his  limitless  devotion  to  the  rights  of  man,  gave  to  all 
classes  of  the  people,  to  all  sections  of  the  country,  and 
to  the  world  at  large,  a  permanent  interest  in  the  pro 
longation  of  his  labors  and  his  life. 

O 

RESOLVED,  That,  deploring  the  public  loss,  it  is  yet  a 
consolation  that  the  people  of  the  Commonwealth  share  in 
the  triumphs,  resulting,  in  great  part,  from  the  labors  of 
their  illustrious  Senator,  to  which  in  the  agony  of  death 
he  gave  his  last  and  noblest  thoughts,  and  which  culmi 
nated  in  the  destruction  of  an  odious  and  sectional  system 
of  chattel  slavery ;  in  the  enfranchisement  of  four  million 
slaves  ;  in  their  political  and  social  elevation  ;  and  1he 
incorporation  of  the  sublime  doctrines  of  the  Declaration 
of  American  Independence  into  the  text  and  body  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  Republic. 

RESOLVED,  That  in  the  galaxy  of  her  illustrious  chil 
dren,  whose  colonial,  revolutionary,  constitutional  and 
military  services  shed  an  undying  lustre  upon  her  name, 
MASSACHUSETTS  HAS  NO  WORTHIER  sox ! 


LEGISLATIVE   PROCEEDINGS.  23 


PROCEEDINGS  IN  THE   SENATE. 


Hon.  HENRY  S.  WASIIBURN,  of  the  First  Suffolk  District,  then 
spoke  as  follows  upon  these  Resolutions : — 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  There  are  times  in  the  experience  of 
most  men  when,  overtaken  by  sudden  bereavement,  they 
feel  the  poverty  of  human  speech  to  express  emotions 
which  struggle  for  utterance.  This  is  as  true  of  com 
munities  as  of  individuals — moments  when  a  voice  almost 
audible  seems  to  say  to  us,  "Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am 
God  !"  "I  was  dumb  and  opened  not  my  mouth,  because 
Thou  didst  it."  We  have  reached  such  a  point  in  our 
experience  as  a  people.  An  event  has  transpired  which, 
though  not  unexpected,  has  nevertheless  come  upon  us  as 
a  thief  in  the  night, — as  it  were,  in  a  moment,  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye, — and  we  labor  for  fitting  terms  in 
which  to  express  the  grief  that  oppresses  us. 

The  portion  of  time  occupied  by  the  life  of  the  illus 
trious  dead,  covers  a  most  important  period  in  the  annals 
of  the  nation ;  and  it  is  quite  impossible  in  the  hour 
allotted  for  this  service  for  any  one  to  present  even  a  brief 
analysis  of  his  life-work.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  do  it. 
This  task  will,  in  due  time,  be  submitted  to  other  and 
abler  hands.  Let  us  rather  mingle  our  tears  and  sym 
pathies  together,  as  we  bow  before  the  affliction  which 
has  come  upon  us — sorrowing  most  of  all  that  the  places 
which  once  knew  him  will  know  him  no  more  forever. 
Given  to  us  by  Providence,  as  we  must  believe,  for  the 


24:  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

accomplishment  of  a  great  mission  upon  the  earth,  he  has 
finished  the  work  allotted  to  him  ;  oh,  how  worthily  ;  and 
now,  early  in  the  golden  afternoon  of  life,  weary  and 
worn  from  the  fields  of  his  triumphs  and  victories,  he 
rests  from  his  labors  and  his  works  they  will  follow  him. 

It  is  an  impressive  reflection  that  there  is  no  home  in 
all  the  Commonwealth  where  sorrowing  kindred  wait  for 
his  remains  when  they  may  be  borne  hither  from  the  cap 
ital  of  the  nation.  AYith  the  exception  of  a  sister  living 
upon  the  far-off  Pacific  shore,  he  was  alone  in  the  world ; 
and  so  the  more,  Mr.  President,  are  we  all  mourners 
to-day.  The  State  he  has  done  so  much  to  honor,  will 
receive  all  that  was  mortal  of  him,  and  lay  him  tenderly 
to  rest  upon  her  bosom,  amid  the  tears  and  benedictions 
of  all  the  people. 

Mr.  President,  only  four  clays  ago  the  Senate  adopted 
Resolutions  of  respect  to  the  memory  of  an  ex-President 
of  the  United  States — a  venerable  man,  who,  in  the  ful 
ness  of  years,  has  passed  away  from  the  scenes  and 
responsibilities  of  earth ;  and  now  we  pause  to  pay  a 
similar  tribute  of  love  and  regard  for  one  greater  than  he 
— one  nearer  and  dearer  to  all  our  hearts,  the  recognized 
champion  of  the  oppressed,  the  friend  of  the  friendless 
the  wide  world  over. 

Well  might  we  be  distrustful  for  the  future,  as,  one  by 
one,  the  men  who  have  upheld  our  country's  honor  and 
fame,  faint  or  fall';  were  we  not  assured  that  others,  brave 
and  true,  will  come  forth  to  fill  the  places  made  vacant  by 
their  departure  ;  and  that  to-day,  upon  a  thousand  altars, 
from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  they  are  ready  to  pledge 
anew  their  lives,  their  fortunes  and  their  sacred  honor, 
that  they  will  transmit  to  their  children  the  heritage  we 
have  received  from  our  fathers — the  priceless  blessing  of 
a  Republican  Government. 


LEGISLATIVE   PROCEEDINGS.  25 


Hon.  GEORGE  B.  LORIXG,  President  of  the  Senate,  having  called 
Mr.  BAILEY  to  the  Chair,  made  the  following  address : — 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  The  sad  and  startling  event  which  has 
suddenly  arrested  the  attention  and  stricken  the  heart  of 
this  Commonwealth  and  the  country,  falls  with  peculiar 
and  touching  force  upon  us  who  are  assembled  here. 
For  nearly  a  generation  of  men  the  name  of  CHARLES 
SUMXER  has  been  held  dear  and  sacred  in  these  halls. 
His  humane  and  lofty  sentiments  have  inspired  the  legis 
lative  action  of  Massachusetts  to  high  and  honorable 
purpose  in  the  great  public  trials  of  our  day ;  at  his  feet 
have  sat  those  who  have  pointed  the  way  to  an  immortal 
service,  and  whose  short  and  brilliant  career  has  taught 
the  world  what  a  free  Commonwealth  can  do  on  the  lield 
of  battle,  and  in  the  executive  council,  to  purify  and 
elevate  mankind ;  and  his  name  has  been  a  watchword  for 
those  who  believe  in  humanity,  and  integrity,  and  jus 
tice,  and  equality,  as  the  foundation  of  an  imperishable 
Eepublic. 

Around  CHARLES  SUMNER  as  Senator  and  citizen,  as 
associate  and  friend,  have  circled,  for  a  quarter  of  a  cen 
tury,  the  best  aspiration,  the  highest  culture,  the  loftiest 
purpose,  and  the  most  earnest  hopes  of  our  people,  high 
and  low,  rich  and  poor.  To  him  it  was  given  in  the 
same  hour  to  warm  the  thought  of  the  scholar,  and  to 
cheer  the  heart  of  the  down-trodden  and  the  oppressed. 
As  he  walked  along  the  path  of  life,  he  led  with  one  hand 
the  Aviso  and  the  thoughtful  to  a  lofty  sphere  of  duty, 
and  with  the  other  hand  the  poor  and  the  lowly  to 
the  great  opportunity  and  the  sweet  consolation  which 
attends  untrammelled  manhood.  Not  always  in  accord 
with  popular  demand,  he  was  always  found  proudly  in 
the  fore-front  of  popular  honor.  Not  always  an  ingenious 
legislator,  he  furnished  the  broad,  general  principles  upon 
which  the  more  expert  might  build*  with  entire  safety  and 


26  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

for  the  highest  welfare  of  the  country.  To  his  mind  the 
animating  sentiment  of  a  Republic  is  virtue  ;  and  so  he 
demanded  for  the  people  complete  social  and  civil  equal 
ity,  and  of  the  government  a  patriotic  and  honest  admin 
istration  of  public  affairs.  Exposed  at  all  times  by  his 
sturdy  and  uncompromising  faith  to  the  severest  criti 
cism,  he  set  his  standard  of  public  service  high,  and  made 
his  demands  upon  his  associates  imperative.  No  man  can 
now  recall  a  word  of  toleration  for  a  low  and  equivocal 
design  which  ever  fell  from  his  lips ;  and  many  a  man 
can  remember  the  kind  encouragement  which  he  warmly 
bestowed  upon  humane  and  manly  purpose. 

It  is  usual,  Mr.  President,  to  attribute  the  result  of  a 
brilliant  and  successful  voyage  through  life  to  the  favoring 
gales  of  fortune.  Of  many  of  us  this  may  be  true ;  but 
not  so  of  him  whose  high  and  commanding  career  we  are 
suddenly  called  upon  to  contemplate  in  all  its  grandeur, 
and  whose  untimely  death  we  now  deplore.  To  no  man, 
in  any  age,  has  the  law  of  cause  and  consequence  been 
more  thoroughly  and  consistently  applied  than  to  Mr. 
SUMXER  ;  from  no  man  in  public  life  have  we  been 
able  to  promise  mankind  a  larger  and  more  benignant 
service  than  from  him  whose  characteristics,  from  youth 
upward,  were  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  times  in  which 
he  lived.  A  constant,  patient  and  devoted  student,  he 
stored  his  mind  with  the  broadest  principles  of  humane 
and  Christian  statesmanship  as  the  foundation  of  his  serv 
ice  in  the  cause  of  freedom ;  he  became  familiar  with  the 
most  righteous  doctrines  of  international  law,  as  a  guide 
for  the  Republic  in  its  relations  with  foreign  powers ;  he 
established  a  fraternal  sympathy  between  himself  and 
large-hearted  statesmen  and  philanthropists  everywhere ; 
he  joined  himself  with  the  fraternity  of  scholars  through 
out  the  world;  he  brought  to  his  side,  in  all  his  trials, 
the  thoughtful  of  his  own  land,  and  the  aspiring  of  States 
less  favored ;  and  he  elevated  the  political  controversies 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  27 


in  which  he  was  engaged  up  to  a  standard  attractive  to 
the  cultivated  and  sincere.  Not  by  accident,  nor  by 
good  fortune  alone,  did  he  accomplish  this.  It  was  not 
accident  which,  in  his  youth,  opened  the  best  homes  in 
Boston  to  him,  in  order  that  affectionate  parents  might 
set  his  example  before  their  children ;  it  was  not  accident 
which  gathered  around  his  early  manhood  a  circle  of  lit 
erature  and  refinement,  where  the  last  bright  volume  and 
the  rising  author  found  a  welcome  into  the  best  compan 
ionship  of  letters  ;  it  was  not  an  accident  which  secured 
for  him  the  esteem  of  the  best  jurists  of  America,  and 
the  admiration  of  the  great  lawyers  who  throng  West 
minster  Hall ;  it  was  not  accident  which  led  him  to 
advocate  the  doctrine  of  peace  as  the  only  foundation  of 
true  national  grandeur,  and  to  proclaim  the  doctrine  of 
freedom  as  the  only  sure  foundation  of  the  American 
Republic ;  it  was  not  accident  which  elevated  him  to  the 
championship  of  human  equality,  and  brought  him  to  mar 
tyrdom  in  the  holy  cause.  No.  The  high  purpose,  the 
devotion  to  the  best  mental  culture,  the  eager  demand  for 
the  companionship  of  the  wisest  and  the  best,  the  reso 
lute  determination  to  get  wisdom  as  the  "principal  thing," 
"more  precious  than  rubies,"  the  early,  constant  and  last 
ing  intimacy  with  high-toned  speculation,  the  defiance  of 
social  position  before  the  imperative  call  of  conscience, 
the  unyielding  grasp  upon  a  grand  and  fundamental  idea, 
the  dedication  of  himself  to  the  great  principles,  the  lofty 
scorn  of  party  dictation  which  marked  his  course,  com 
bined  to  build  for  him  an  imposing  monument  of  civil 
labors,  wrhose  symmetry  and  fine  proportion  no  mere 
chance  could  create  and  which  no  accident  can  destroy. 
He  is  known,  and  will  be  known,  in  American  history,  as 
THE  SENATOR  ;  no  more,  no  less.  One  grand,  imposing, 
perfected  structure  is  his,  complete  in  all  its  parts,  dedi 
cated  to  one  service — a  type  of  what  can  be  accomplished 
by  the  American  statesman  whose  honesty  and  devotion 


28  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

secure  the  confidence  of  the  people,  and  whose  heroism 
and  courage  command  their  admiration  and  lay  hold  upon 
a  controlling  and  commanding  force,  before  which  all 
political  machinery  is  powerless  and  contemptible.  Let 
him  stand  forever  in  our  annals  as  THE  SEXATOH — the 
product  of  those  institutions  which  arc  founded  on  popu 
lar  intelligence  and  freedom,  and  rely  for  their  defence 
and  development  upon  an  educated  and  Heaven-directed 
conscience. 

And  now  that  he  is  gone,  the  best  sentiments  of  our 
hearts  struggle  for  expression.  Fortunate  as  he  was,  not 
so  much  in  the  accidents  of  public  life  as  in  that  constant 
preparation  which  made  him  the  central  figure  of  every 
momentous  event  in  a  most  critical  period  in  our  history, 
he  was  also  fortunate  in  the  respect  and  admiration  which 
his  career  secured  from  all  classes  and  orders  of  men. 
For  him  the  poet  sang,  the  historian  wrought,  the  scholar 
labored,  the  orator  warmed,  the  suffering  prayed,  the 
emancipated  poured  forth  their  blessings.  When  we 
remember  his  characteristics  and  call  up  the  events  of 
his  life,  to  no  man  of  our  day  and  generation  so  truly 
applies  that  familiar  and  delightful  tribute,  drawn  from 
the  ancient  tongue  he  loved  so  well : — 

"  Justum  et  tenacem  propositi  virnm, 
Non  civium  ardor  prava  jubentiimi, 
Kon  vultus  instantis  tyramii 
Mente  quatit  solida." 

And  as  we  contemplate  his  closing  hours,  to  no  man 
belongs  more  sublimely  those  diviner  words  :  — 

"  Mark  the  perfect  man  and  behold  the  upright ;  for  the  end  of 
that  man  is  peace.1' 


LEGISLATIVE   PHOCEEDIXGS.  29 


Hon.  FRANCIS  B.  HAYES,  of  the  Second  Suffolk  District,  said  :— 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  At  this  time,  when  death  has  struck 
down  with  awful  suddenness  the  senior  representative  of 
this  Commonwealth  in  the  councils  of  the  Nation,  we 
cannot  refrain  from  the  public  expression  of  sorrow,  nor 
fail  to  manifest  our  respect  for  the  memory  of  the 
departed.  It  is  the  reward  of  the  patriot  to  be  remem 
bered  gratefully  by  his  countrymen  after  he  has  passed 
from  earth  ;  and  we  but  pay  a  just  debt  in  recognizing, 
with  the  warmest  expression  of  our  hearts,  the  great  ser 
vices  which  the  illustrious  statesman,  whose  death  we 
deplore,  has  rendered  to  the  State  and  to  all  mankind. 
We  do  not  allow  our  political  opinions  nor  our  personal 
preferences,  in  the  consideration  of  subjects  upon  which 
men  may  honestly  entertain  different  views,  to  prevent  us 
from  doing  full  justice  to  him  who  lies  now  in  the  cold 
embrace  of  the  invincible  conqueror  of  mortality.  We 
all  hasten  to  honor  him  whose  useful  and  noble  life  has 
added  lustre  to  the  honor  of  our  State  and  Nation. 

The  character  of  CHARLES  SUMXER  was  typical  of  his 
New  England  birthplace.  His  mind  Avas  as  capacious  as 
the  ocean  which  beats  upon  our  coast.  In  his  principles 
he  was  as  immovable  as  our  lofty  hills.  Though  he  might 
not  have  been  so  demonstrative  as  many  in  the  expres 
sions  of  cordiality,  yet  his  large  heart  embraced  in  its 
affections  all  mankind,  and  throbbed  with  the  warmest 
sympathy  for  the  weak  and  friendless.  The  earliest 
efforts  of  his  manhood  were  directed  to  the  amelioration 
of  the  wretched  prisoner  in  his  cell,  and  in  his  maturer 
years  he  knew  no  rest  until  the  oppressed  were  freed 
from  bondage.  Justice  having  been  done  to  the  slave,  he 
was  then  equally  anxious  that  justice  should  be  done  to 
the  master.  The  down-trodden  could  always  look  up  to 
him  in  hope  and  confidence  to  alleviate  their  misery  and 


30  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

to  raise  them  from  degradation.  He  was  emphatically 
the  friend  of  the  friendless. 

Mr.  SUMXER  was  a  thoroughly  honest  man.  Even 
calumny,  so  ready  to  destroy  the  character  of  good  men, 
dared  not  breathe  a  suspicion  against  the  integrity  and 
purity  of  life  of  our  deceased  friend.  He  could  not  be 
approached  by  any  unworthy  inducements.  His  opinions 
were  always  frankly  and  boldly  expressed.  He  cared  not 
if  he  differed  from  those  of  high  social  or  official  position 
if  he  believed  his  cause  was  right.  He  was  no  time- 
server.  While  not  regardless  of  the  good  opinion  of 
men,  he  looked  first  for  the  approval  of  Heaven.  How 
ever  his  associates  in  public  life  might  differ  with  him, 
however  much  some  of  his  friends  might  regret  the 
course  he  thought  proper  to  adopt  at  times  upon  matters 
of  great  public  interest,  yet  all  will  readily  accord  to  him 
their  respect  for  his  manliness  and  unflinching  courage 
in  expressing  his  opinions,  which  were  founded  upon  his 
honest  convictions. 

Mr.  President,  I  did  not  rise  to  pronounce  a  eulogy 
upon  CHARLES  SUMNER.  My  feeble  words  can  add  noth 
ing  to  his  glorious  fame.  I  simply  desire  to  express  my 
appreciation  of  the  great  loss  which  has  happened  to  all 
in  the  death  of  the  ripe  scholar,  the  distinguished  states 
man,  the  true  patriot  and  honest  man.  He  was  a  resi 
dent  of  the  district  which  I  have  the  honor  to  represent 
in  this  body.  But  no  local  boundaries  limited  his  useful 
ness.  He  belonged  not  merely  to  Massachusetts,  but  to 
the  Nation  and  the  whole  world,  which  have  been  bene 
fited  by  his  life,  devoted  to  the  sacred  cause  of  truth  and 
to  the  relief  of  suffering  humanity. 

It  will  be,  I  doubt  not,  Mr.  President,  a  melancholy 
pleasure  for  us  all  to  unite  in  manifesting  in  the  most 
appropriate  manner  our  respect  for  the  memory  of  the 
long  tried,  faithful  and  honored  servant  of  this  Common 
wealth,  now  at  rest  from  his  labors. 


LEGISLATIVE   PROCEEDINGS.  31 


Hon.  THOMAS  N.  STONE,  of  the  Cape  District,  then  rose  and 
said : — 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  Amid  the  wreaths  so  rare  in  their 
beauty  that  are  laid  upon  the  coffin  of  our  deceased  Sena 
tor,  permit  me  to  place  a  simple  wild-flower  as  a  token 
of  my  humble  love.  For  truly  has  the  great  iconoclast 
entered  into  the  house  of  my  idols  and  stricken  from  his 
pedestal  one  before  whom  my  soul  had  long  bowed  with 
reverence  akin  to  devotion.  Ever  since  I  read  his  tf  True 
Grandeur  of  Nations  "  CHARLES  SUMNER  has  been  to  me  a 
model  statesman,  towering  high  above  his  fellows.  And 
amid  all  the  political  changes  of  our  country,  amid  all  the 
clouds  and  sunshine  that  have  been  thrown  upon  his  path 
way,  my  soul  has  been  true  to  its  first  love.  I  was  proud 
to  be  in  the  minority  last  year,  as  I  was  glad  to  be  in  the 
majority  this  year,  on  that  vote  which  tore  the  hateful 
cypress  from  his  brow,  just  in  time  for  death  to  place  his 
laurel  there.  Mr.  President,  there  will  be  noble  praises 
sung  over  CHARLES  SUMNER'S  grave,  and  grand  orations 
pronounced  on  his  life  and  death.  But  nowhere  in  the 
Old  Bay  State  will  CHARLES  SUMNER  have  more  sincere 
mourners  than  among  the  sand-hills  of  my  native  shore, 
where  old  Atlantic,  beneath  the  rude  winds  of  March,  is 
thundering  a  requiem  alone  worthy  the  fame  of  Massa 
chusetts'  noblest  son.  To  us,  amid  all  the  suspicion  and 
doubt  which  have  fallen  in  lighter  or  darker  cloud  upon 
other  statesmen,  CHARLES  SUMNER  has  ever  stood  forth 
sublime  in  his  purpose  and  grand  in  his  integrity, — 

"  As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 
Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm, 
Though  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head." 

An  eagle-eyed  statesman,  he  saw  the  foe  before  he  was 
reached  by  our  shorter  vision,  and  he  met  that  foe  when 


32  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

his  great  heart,  which  death  has  now  stilled,  was  the  only 
drum  to  beat  the  charge,  and  his  own  grand  inspiration 
his  only  henchman  in  the  field.  He  has  died,  leaving  no 
superior  behind  in  his  chosen  field,  and  few — for  our 
country  all  too  few — who,  in  grandness  of  aim  and  integ 
rity  to  right,  are  worthy  to  be  called  his  peers.  But 
CHARLES  SUMXER  has  left  to  posterity  a  character  and  a 
fame  after  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  future  statesmen  will 
model  their  own. 

Drape  the  banner  my  State, 

For  thy  chieftain  lies  low  ; 
In  the  field  of  his  conquest 

lie  has  met  his  last  foe. 

Hang  his  shield  on  thy  wall — 

It  was  dented  for  thee ; 
His  war-cry  no  longer 

Waketh  mountain  and  lea. 

The  March  winds  are  moaning 

O'er  thy  forest  and  plain, 
As  back  to  his  mother 

Comes  thy  child  once  again. 

Xow  his  life's  work  is  done, 

Let  him  sleep  on  thy  breast ; 
For  of  all  our  broad  States 

He  has  loved  thee  the  best. 


The  following  remarks  were  then  made  by  lion.  E.  II.  LATIJROP, 
of  the  First  Ilampden  District: — 

Mr.  PRESIDENT  :  While  I  fully  accord  with  the  senti 
ment  of  the  Kesolutions,  and  desire  for  myself  to  add 
thus  publicly  my  fealty  to,  and  respect  for,  the  memory 
of  the  Senator  who  has  departed,  it  is  to  me,  sir,  a  mat 
ter  of  comfort  and  congratulation  that  when  a  Common 
wealth  sits  in  the  shadow  of  a  great  calamity  the  shackles 


LEGISLATIVE    PBOCEEDINGS.  33 

of  party  and  the  prejudice  of  faction  fade  away  and  fall. 
As  has  been  well  said  by  the  Senator  who  preceded  me, 
I  have  no  eulogy  to  pronounce  upon  the  character  of 
CHARLES  SUMNER  ;  the  path  of  the  history  of  State  and 
Nation  for  the  last  twenty-live  years  is  illustrated  with  the 
monumental  record  of  his  life. 

It  is  peculiarly  appropriate,  as  it  is  true,  while  the 
spirit  of  the  Commonwealth  and  of  the  Nation  stands  in 
bo  we'd  bereavement  at  the  door  of  his  open  tomb,  that 
there  should  exist  within  the  hearts  of  the  people  the 
elements  of  a  great  content, — content  in  this,  that  the 
rare  symmetry  of  this  man's  life  is  so  roundly  and  nobly 
perfected  in  his  death. 

It  remained  for  him,  in  the  later  days  of  his  life, 
to  illustrate  to  the  people  of  this  Commonwealth  how 
possible  it  is  for  one  large-brained,  great-hearted,  clear- 
visioned  man  to  be  nearer  right  than  the  whole  Common 
wealth  of  Massachusetts  ;  and  how  happily  is  it  true  that, 
after  the  soreness  and  the  sorrow,  and  just  as  his  hand 
was  lifted  to  knock  at  the  gates  of  the  Everlasting  City ; 
just  before  the  call  was  sounded  which  summoned  him  to 
solve  the  great  sad  problem  of  the  immortality,  there 
came  to  him,  by  tender  ways  and  honored  paths,  the 
renewed  loyalty,  fealty  and  faith  of  his  Commonwealth. 

Now,  sir,  to  the  tender  tributes  that  have  been  offered 
to  his  memory,  not  only  in  the  hearts  of  this  people  but 
by  Senators  in  this  chamber,  I  can  add  nothing  more 
tender  than  has  been  sung  by  the  sweet-voiced  laureate 
of  England,  of  one  whom  England  loved  and  honored  : — 

"  We  know  him  now ;  all  narrow  jealousies 
Are  silent ;  and  we  see  him  as  he  moved, 
How  modest,  kindly,  all-accomplished,  wise ; 
With  what  sublime  repression  of  himself, 
And  in  what  limits  and  how  tenderly — 
Not  swaying  to  this  faction  or  to  that, 
Not  making  his  high  place  the  lawless  perch 
5 


34  CHAELES    SUMXER. 

Of  winged  ambition,  or  a  vantage  ground 

For  pleasure.     But  through  all  this  tract  of  years 

Wearing  the  white  flower  of  a  blameless  life, 

Before  a  thousand  peering  littlenesses, 

In  that  fierce  light  that  beats  upon  a  [public  man] 

And  blackens  every  blot ;  for  where  is  he 

Who  dares  foreshadow  for  an  only  son 

A  lovelier  life,  a  more  unstained  than  his  ?  " 


Hon.  XATHANIEL  P.  BANKS,  of  the  Second  Middlesex  District, 
then  addressed  the  Senate  in  the  following  words, — after  which  the 
Resolutions  were  unanimously  adopted,  amid  profound  silence,  by 
a  rising  vote. 

The  death  of  Mr.  SUMNER  has  fallen  upon  us  with  such 
startling  effect,  Mr.  President ;  it  has  been  "so  unadvised, 
so  sudden,  so  like  the  lightning,  which  is  here  and  gone 
ere  one  can  say,  fit  lightens,'"  that  it  is  quite  impossible 
for  us  to  present  even  the  general  appreciation  of  the 
character  of  the  great  man  whose  loss  the  State  we  repre 
sent  is  especially  called  to  mourn.  The  members  of  the 
Senate  have  been  engaged  in  a  more  practical  and  import 
ant  duty  than  that  of  presenting  their  opinions  as  to  the 
services  of  the  illustrious  Senator,  in  making  arrange 
ments  for  the  last  final  honors  that  are  to  be  paid  him  by 
the  State  and  the  people  of  this  Commonwealth.  Yet, 
nevertheless,  sir,  it  is  due  to  his  memory,  aud  still  more 
to  the  State  and  ourselves,  to  suggest  some  views  of  his 
services  and  character,  however  imperfectly  they  may  be 
presented. 

Mr.  SUMNER  had  an  established  reputation  before  he 
was  charged  with  the  partial  representation  of  the  people 
of  Massachusetts  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  In 
his  own  honored  university  at  Cambridge  he  was  a  marked 
man.  He  was  the  flower  of  its  literary  societies,  and  the 
recipient  of  high  classical  honors ;  and  had  been  offered 
an  appointment  to  the  law  professorship  as  the  successor 
of  Judge  Story.  His  eloquent  voice  had  recalled  the 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  35 

virtues  and  the  genius  of  some  of  the  most  brilliant  men 
of  the  time — scholars,  artists,  philanthropists  and  jurists. 
His  name  was  celebrated  in  the  capitals  of  Europe.  He 
was.  therefore,  not  unknown  when  he  came  to  the  service 
of  the  Commonwealth.  It  is  as  the  Representative  of 
the  Commonwealth  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States, 
however,  that  his  character  will  be  judged  and  his  fame 
will  rest. 

The  office  of  Senator  of  the  United  States  was,  in  point 
of  fact,  the  only  public  office  he  ever  held.  It  is  true  he 
had  held  a  commission  at  an  early  period  of  his  life  as 
one  of  the  ministerial  officers  of  the  Government  of  the 
United  States,  but  it  was  an  uncongenial  position,  unsuited 
to  his  capacity,  not  at  all  in  accordance  with  his  prin 
ciples  ;  and  when  an  important  change  had  been  made  in 
the  legislation  of  the  country,  it  became  morally  impos 
sible  for  him  to  discharge  its  duties.  So,  sir,  the  office 
of  Senator  of  the  United  States  was,  in  truth,  the  only 
public  office  he  ever  held.  How  well,  sir,  he  filled  that 
high  station,  we  all  know.  None  of  us  can  well  state  in 
such  terms  as  here  occur  to  us  the  full  measure  of  his 
success.  But  we  can  all  comprehend  and  appreciate  the 
great  events  of  his  life,  which  in  themselves  convey  to 
the  world  a  proper  estimate  of  his  capacity  and  character. 
His  election  occurred  in  April,  1851.  A  few  months 
earlier  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  had  passed  what 
was  known  as  the  compromise  measures,  designed  to 
settle  all  questions  of  difficulty  between  the  North  and 
South. 

Mr.  SUMNEE,  was  elected  and  entered  upon  his  term  of 
service  as  an  opponent  of  these  acts.  He  stood,  therefore, 
among  those  with  whom  he  was  officially  associated,  as  a 
representative  of  a  distinct  principle,  in  opposition  to  the 
policy  which  the  Government  had  adopted.  The  Admin 
istration  party,  with  the  honored  and  distinguished  ex- 
President  of  the  United  States,  Mr.  Fillmore,  at  its  head, 


36  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

whose  memory  was  appropriately  noticed  the  other  clay ; 
whose  mortal  remains  but  yesterday,  sir,  were  waiting, 
in  common  with  those  of  our  own  beloved  Senator,  the 
last  sad  honors  of  their  respective  States,  before  the  tomb 
should  shut  them  from  our  sight  forever, — Mr.  Fillmore 
and  the  great  men  associated  with  him,  the  two  houses 
of  Congress,  and  a  large  majority  of  the  people,  had 
determined  that  a  policy  of  concession  was  necessary 
and  just.  It  was  assumed  to  be  the  voice  of  the  people. 
It  would  lead,  as  they  supposed,  to  peace,  and  avoid 
an  impending  fratricidal  war.  Against  that  policy  Mr. 
SUMXER  appealed  as  the  representative  of  a  different 
spirit.  He  conceded  nothing.  He  demanded  everything 
essential  to  the  personal  and  public  liberty  guaranteed  by 
the  Declaration  of  Independence. 

Undoubtedly  the  great  majority  of  the  people  were 
against  him,  regarding  him  as  a  disturber  of  the  public 
peace.  But  the  result  shows  upon  whom  the  gift  of 
prophecy  had  descended.  The  parties  for  whom  these 
concessions  had  been  made  were  determined  to  accept 
nothing  that  did  not  recognize  slavery  as  the  law  of  the 
land,  and  this  extreme  demand  being  rejected,  they 
seemed  ready,  and,  indeed,  determined,  to  destroy  the 
Government  itself.  And  thus,  sir,  when,  at  last,  the  long 
threatened  assault  on  the  part  of  the  Southern  States  was 
made,  the  whole  country  had  to  recognize  the  fact  that 
the  illustrious  Senator  of  Massachusetts  had  stated  the 
only  correct  principle  of  action  for  the  General  Govern 
ment  in  its  dealings  with  the  slave-power.  And  it  was 
then  conceded  on  all  sides  that  compromise  as  a  basis 
of  settlement  was  impossible.  It  is  upon  this  historical 
fact  that  his  reputation  must  forever  stand.  It  pro 
claims  him  the  foremost  man  of  his  time.  For,  though 
he  had  many  able,  patriotic,  and  eloquent  coadjutors  in 
defence  of  the  principles  of  freedom,. which  ought  to  have 
been  accepted  as  the  landmark  of  the  Nation,  it  is  wrell 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  37 

known  that  from  the  earnestness  of  his  nature,  the  inten 
sity  of  his  feelings  on  this  question,  he  pronounced  such 
eloquent  invocations  in  behalf  of  liberty,  such  appeals  to 
the  sense  of  national  justice,  such  stinging  rebukes  and 
scathing  denunciations  of  his  opponents,  that  they  selected 
and  marked  him,  the  young  giant  of  Massachusetts,  as 
the  man  who  must  be  overthrown  if  their  cause  was  not 
to  be  destroyed.  The  deceased  Senator  in  this  conflict 
stood  almost  alone.  Older  Senators,  who  had  been 
taught  by  experience  how  far  in  opposition  to  the  pre 
dominant  policy  they  could  safely  go,  had  followed  a 
more  prudent  course.  They  had  even  counselled  the 
Massachusetts  Senator  that  his  sharp  methods  of  contro 
versy  were  impolitic  and  perhaps  unsafe.  But  he  did  not 
desist.  He  returned  denunciation  for  denunciation  and 
scorn  for  scorn.  Like  Milton's  angel,  faithful  among  the 
faithless, — 

"  From  amidst  them  forth  he  passed 
Long  way  thro1  hostile  scorn,  which  he  sustained 
Superior ;  nor  of  violence  feared  aught ; 
And  with  retorted  scorn  his  back  he  turned 
On  those  proud  towers  to  swift  destruction  doomed." 

Thus,  Mr.  SUMXER,  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States, 
endured  for  ten  long  years  the  hostility  of  those  that 
opposed  the  principles  of  which  he  was  the  representative, 
and  thus  he  turned  his  back  upon  them  "with  retorted 
scorn  "  till  those  great  States  suffered  the  swift  destruc 
tion  to  which  they  had  been  doomed.  In  this  manner, 
sir,  he  became  the  representative  of  his  country,  from 
his  fidelity  to  its  principles.  He  was  entitled  to  the 
consideration  and  marked  respect  of  the  whole  people, 
whether  they  had  been  enemies  or  his  friends.  As  an 
orator,  he  had  in  his  time  few  equals,  certainly  no  supe 
rior.  It  is  unnecessary  for  us  to  speak  of  him  in 
comparison  with  ancient  orators.  We  know  little  about 


38  CHARLES    SUMXEK. 

them.  TTo  know  of  them  only  by  tradition,  and  we 
know  enough  of  tradition  to  doubt  much,  if  not  all, 
that  is  said  in  praise  of  them.  But  the  early  orators 
of  our  own  country  we  know  perfectly  well,  and  how 
ever  much  we  esteem  them  and  approve  their  efforts,  we 
must  remember  that  the  same  orations  which  were  then 
delivered  with  studied  phrase,  modulated  voice  and  pre 
arranged  action,  would  not  suit  the  people  of  our  day. 
It  is  doubtful  if  the  orations  which  thirty  or  forty  years 
since  so  entranced  the  people  of  the  United  States  would 
be  now  appreciated  as  they  were  then. 

The  world  is  too  busy  to  listen  to  artistic  and  studied 
harangues.  We  want  to  come  directly  to  the  points  at 
issue,  and  understand  the  reasons  for  and  against  them ; 
and,  measured  in  this  way,  Mr.  SUMNER  had  no  superior. 
He  was  not  only  an  orator,  an  instructive  speaker  upon 
all  great  subjects  which  he  was  called  upon  to  discuss, 
but  he  was  a  keen  and  able  debater,  which  demands 
very  different,  if  not  higher  powers.  And,  although 
debate  involved  those  sharp  thrusts  and  retorts  which 
were  offensive  to  him,  yet,  when  necessary,  he  had  as 
sharp  and  bitter  a  tongue  as  any  man  he  encountered. 
I  myself  once  heard  a  few  words  uttered  by  him 
in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  in  the  midst  of 
the  personal  assaults  that  were  made  upon  him,  that 
seemed  to  impregnate  the  very  atmosphere  of  the  hall 
in  which  he  stood.  Such  was  his  character,  such  his 
power  of  language  in  debate.  It  has  been  said,  here  and 
elsewhere,  that  he  was  cold  and  distant.  But  this  was 
not  the  character  of  his  heart  or  nature.  The  man  who 
in  the  service  of  the  Government  has  to  consider  a 
hundred  different  subjects  in  a  day,  must  dismiss  them 
promptly,  decidedly,  but  with  kindness. 

It  is  quite  competent  for  a  man  to  say  yes  and  no  to 
everybody,  and  give  the  impression  to  the  country,  far 
and  wide,  that  he  is  a  man  of  feeling.  But  he  is  not  a 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDIXG3.  39 

true  man.  The  true  man  is  lie  who  considers  everything 
presented  to  him,  and  speaks  honestly  and  truthfully 
upon  each  question.  And  the  deceased  Senator  never 
dealt  otherwise  with  man  or  woman.  Thus,  when  he 
was  thought  to  be  lofty  and  cold,  it  was  because  he 
was  engaged  upon  those  practical  matters  of  business 
where  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  delay  or  waste  his 
time.  But  at  the  foundation  of  his  being,  in  the  depth 
of  his  soul,  all  his  warm  and  strong  personal  friends  say 
there  was  a  never-failing  well  of  generous  and  heart 
felt  sympathies.  AYe  can  w^ell  believe  that  it  was  this 
generous  and  sympathetic  nature  which  led  him  to  sup 
port  the  great  cause  to  which  he  dedicated  his  life. 

My  honored  colleague  of  the  city  of  Cambridge,  my 
associate  upon  the  committee,  informs  me,  when,  a  few 
days  ago,  the  Resolutions  of  the  State  of  Massachusetts, 
rescinding  the  Resolution  of  condemnation  that  had  been 
passed  against  him,  were  presented  to  him,  he  received 
them  with  equanimity ;  that  he  spoke  a  few  words  to 
one  or  two  gentlemen  connected  with  the  Government 
whom  he  knew,  and  then,  overcome  with  emotion,  wept 
as  a  child.  That,  sir,  was  the  character  of  the  Senator, 
when  stripped  of  the  husk,  the  rhinoceros  hide,  that 
every  public  man  must  sometimes  put  on  to  protect  him 
from  the  assaults  of  friends  as  well  as  enemies. 

There  is  another  consideration,  more  important  in 
estimating  the  character  of  the  Senator  than  those  which 
have  been  suggested.  He  was  a  point  of  union  among 
the  people  ;  not  a  point  of  union  for  partisan  success, 
but  for  necessary  and  novel  combinations  and  the  suc 
cess  of  great  principles.  It  was  in  this  way  he  came 
to  be  a  Senator  of  the  United  States.  He  did  not  seek 
the  office.  When  he  was  chosen  he  deemed  it  proper 
to  recognize  his  election  by  notifying  the  Legislature 
of  his  acceptance,  and  he  then  declared  that  while  he 
accepted  the  office  to  which  he  had  been  elected,  and 


40  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

returned  his  grateful  thanks  for  the  honor  conferred 
upon  him,  he  had  not  lifted  his  hand  to  obtain  it.  The 
young  men  of  the  Commonwealth  met  this  young  giant, 
as  Frederika  Bremer  called  him,  soon  after  his  return 
from  Europe,  where  he  had  been  honored  by  the  friend 
ship  of  its  scholars  and  statesmen,  and  observing  his 
interest  in  the  philanthropic  questions  of  the  day,  fol 
lowing  in  his  footsteps  as  he  passed  through  the  streets 
—  a  man  of  perfectly  symmetrical  form  and  vigorous 
and  manly  beauty — and  feeling  that  there  was  for  him 
a  destiny  in  connection  with  the  future  of  his  country, 
made  him  their  representative. 

There  were  plenty  of  men  in  the  same  organization 
in  which  he  moved  and  with  which  he  acted,  that  would 
have  been  capable  of  serving  the  State  in  that  regard, 
but  they  had  not  the  power  of  union  ;  they  had  not 
those  qualities  that  drew  men  to  him.  Mr.  SUMNER 
became  a  Senator  of  the  United  States,  after  a  desper 
ate  struggle  here  in  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  which 
occupied  the  two  houses  to  the  exclusion  of  almost  all 
other  business  for  nearly  four  months,  and  which  tested 
the  sincerity  and  integrity  of  men  more  than  any  other 
question  ever  presented  to  the  Legislature.  Two  or 
three  hundred  men  stood  up  for  him  or  against  him, 
day  and  night,  until  he  was  triumphantly  elected.  It 
must  have  been  believed  that  there  wTas  something  in 
his  character  to  support  or  something  in  his  principles 
to  oppose,  that  was  important  to  themselves  or  to  the 
country.  Then  came  another  opportunity  when  he  could 
unite  men  of  different  parties  for  the  success  of  great 
principles. 

-  After  some  years'  service,  having  spoken  for  the  people 
of  Massachusetts  strongly  and  clearly,  he  was  made  the 
subject  of  a  brutal  and  cowardly  assault  as  he  -sat, 
pinioned,  as  it  were,  at  his  desk,  and  unable  to  meet 
either  of  the  assailants  who  surrounded  him.  Men  some- 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  41 

times  are  able  to  concentrate  masses  of  men  by  mere 
accident  as  well  as  by  force  of  intellect.  No  sooner 
was  this  assault  upon  the  Senator  of  Massachusetts 
known,  than  the  people  of  every  loyal  State,  with  one 
voice,  avowed  their  determination  to  defend  his  position 
and  his  principles.  The  great  revolution,  began  in  185G, 
and  culminating  finally  in  the  war,  and  the  incorporation 
for  the  first  time  of  the  principles  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  into  the  text  and  body  of  the  Consti 
tution  of  the  Eepublic,  is  due  to  the  union  formed  by 
the  people  of  the  loyal  States  over  his  prostrate  body 
in  the  Senate  Chamber.  And  now,  sir,  that  he  is  taken 
away,  we  feel  that  in  the  fulness  of  his  time  he  had  come 
to  another  point  of  union  when  he,  if  his  life  had  been 
spared,  would  have  led  us  to  other  and  necessary  changes 
in  the  policy  and  objects  of  the  Government.  This, 
sir,  is  what  we  lose. 

It  is  this,  sir,  that  makes  us  pause  and  ask,  not  of 
man  but  of  God,  "  What  is  your  will  and  what  is  our 
duty?"  The  great  man  of  whom  we  spoke  the  other 
day — I  am  not  ashamed  nor  afraid  to  speak  of  Mr.  Fill- 
more  as  a  patriotic  man  —  had  finished  his  career. 
Other  illustrious  statesmen  have  passed  away.  They 
had  fulfilled  their  mission ;  there  was  no  further  duty 
for  them,  and  God,  in  his  providence,  took  them  to 
himself.  But  this  man  whom  we  mourn,  who  lies  in 
the  capitol  at  Washington,  and  over  whom,  perhaps  at 
this  moment,  is  pronounced  the  benediction  of  the  people 
—this  man  had  just  commenced  life.  He  had  dismissed 
many  of  the  personal  considerations  which  had  controlled 
him,  and  was  ready  for  new  fields  of  service,  as  essential 
to  the  prosperity  of  the  black  man,  to  whom  he  had 
dedicated  his  earlier  life,  as  for  that  of  his  own  class. 

The  people  of  the  country  would  have  turned  to  him, 
not  perhaps  as  a  standard-bearer — there  are  always  stand 
ard-bearers  enough  —  but  as  one  who  could  have  given 
6 


42  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

counsel  which  the  people  of  the  North,  South,  East  and 
West  would  have  gladly  followed.  Thus  separated  from 
all  personal  controversies  and  personal  interests,  the 
country  would  have  accepted  his  judgment  and  followed 
his  example,  knowing  well  that  when  he  stood  alone, 
with  scarcely  a  man  to  back  him,  and  with  a  whole 
country  against  him,  he  had  judged  justly  and  advised 
them  wisely.  It  is  for  this,  sir,  that  we  should  regret 
his  loss.  Where  is  the  man  to  supply  his  place?  Un 
doubtedly  it  will  hereafter  be  supplied.  Men  have 
been  thus  supplied  heretofore  and  will  be  again.  If  he 
were  with  us  there  would  be  multitudes  who  would 
accept  his  counsels,  assured  of  safety  for  the  future. 
But  our  loss  is  his  gain.  It  is  not  for  the  dead,  but 
the  living,  that  we  mourn.  He  is  at  this  hour,  yes, 
this  hour,  the  recipient  of  a  purer  liberty  than  any  that 
entered  into  his  conception,  or  that  has  ever  been 
enjoyed  by  man. 

"  There  is  yet  a  liberty,  unsung 
By  poets  and  by  Senators  unpraised, 
Which  monarchs  cannot  grant,  nor  all  the  powers 
Of  Earth  and  Hell  confederate  take  away ; 
A  liberty  which  persecution,  fraud, 
Oppression,  prisons,  have  no  power  to  bind ; 
Which  whoso  tastes  can  be  enslaved  no  more. 
'Tis  liberty  of  heart,  derived  from  Heaven, 
Bought  with  His  blood,  who  gave  it  to  mankind, 
And  sealed  with  the  same  token.     It  is  held 
By  charter,  and  that  charter  sanctioned  sure 
By  the  unimpeachable  and  awful  oath 
And  promise  of  a  God.     His  other  gifts 
All  bear  the  royal  stamp  that  speaks  them  his, 
And  are  august ;  but  this  transcends  them  all." 

And  this  is  now  the  ineffable  joy  and  the  just  reward 
of  the  illustrious  dead  Senator  of  Massachusetts. 


LEGISLATIVE   PROCEEDINGS.  43 


PROCEEDINGS  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES, 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  March  13,  1874. 

THE  Resolutions  from  the  Joint  Special  Committee  on  the  Message 
of  the  Governor  were  reported  by  Mr.  WILLARD  P.  PHILLIPS  of 
Salem,  and  were  read  by  the  Speaker. 

Mr.  PHILLIPS  then  addressed  the  House  as  follows : — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  In  rising  to  move  the  adoption  of  the 
Resolutions  which  have  just  been  read  from  the  chair,  I 
shall  utter  but  few  words. 

It  is  true  that  CHARLES  SUAIXER  no  longer  lives.  The 
great  Senator  we  have  loved  so  wrell  has  passed  from 
earth.  His  life  is  ended ;  his  record  is  made  up.  It 
remains  for  us,  the  Legislature  of  the  Commonwealth  he 
has  served  so  long  and  honored  so  much,  to  take  such 
action  as  the  sad  occasion  requires. 

For  twenty-three  years  he  has  been  our  Senator.  En 
tering  the  Senate  when  comparatively  unknown  to  the 
country,  he  has  there  earned  a  name  which  is  eminent 
throughout  the  civilized  world.  He  stood  there  but  yes 
terday,  recognized  everywhere  as  the  great  champion  of 
freedom,  the  defender  of  justice,  the  advocate  of  equal 
rights.  To-day  there  is  a  vacant  place  which  can  be  filled 
by  no  living  man. 

Chosen  to  his  high  office  as  an  opponent  of  the  then 
dominant  slave  power,  he  applied  himself  untiringly  to 
the  great  duty  he  had  undertaken — regardless  alike  of 
labor  and  of  personal  danger ;  and  while  so  performing 


44  CHAELES    SUMXEK. 

his  duties  in  the  Senate  chamber,  he  suffered  those 
injuries  from  which  he  never  recovered.  But  he  lived 
to  see  the  slave  power  powerless,  slavery  itself  destroyed, 
and  four  millions  of  slaves  enfranchised.  All  this  he 
labored  for  and  did  much  to  accomplish. 

But,  sir,  it  is  not  only  in  the  advocacy  of  great  truths 
and  of  just  causes  that  he  has  achieved  fame.  His  pure 
and  honest  life,  unsullied  by  any  wrong  act,  was  worthy 
of  the  man,  an  honor  to  the  State  and  Country.  In  the 
midst  of  political  contests,  with  corruption  charged  upon 
almost  every  public  man,  he  was  never  charged  with  or 
suspected  of  any  wrong-doing. 

The  people  of  the  Commonwealth  have  loved  and  hon 
ored  Mr.  SUMNER  from  his  first  entry  into  public  life. 
Never,  when  his  election  has  been  in  controversy,  have 
they  failed  so  to  vote  as  to  make  his  return  absolutely 
certain ;  but  at  the  extra  session  of  the  Legislature  held 
in  November,  1872,  a  Kesolution  was  adopted,  perhaps 
hastily,  which  he  considered  a  censure  and  a  rebuke.  To 
him  it  seemed  undeserved.  It  affected  his  health  and 
caused  him  many  hours  of  suffering  and  pain.  The  next 
Legislature,  already  elected  when  the  Kesolution  was 
adopted,  refused  to  rescind  it,  and  it  remained  unrepealed 
for  more  than  a  year.  But  when  the  people  of  the  Com 
monwealth  could  act,  they  elected  the  present  Legislature, 
which  has,  without  delay,  annulled  the  resolution  of 
censure,  and  sent  to  our  Senators  and  Representatives  in 
Washington  copies  of  the  rescinding  Resolution,  which 
had  been  read  in  both  branches  of  Congress  —  in  the 
Senate,  most  singularly,  at  the  very  last  session  of  that 
body  held  before  our  Senator's  death,  and  in  his  presence. 

Surely,  sir,  we  n^oy  felicitate  ourselves  that  we  have 
done  him  justice,  and  that  now  no  condemnation  of  him 
stands  unrescinded  upon  the  records  of  this  Common 
wealth. 

Sir,  the    great    Senator,  the    honest    man,   the  friend 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEKDIXaS.  45 

of  the  oppressed,  the  illustrious  citizen,  honored  and 
respected  everywhere,  has  gone.  In  his  dying  hours  he 
was  true  to  the  cause  to  which  he  had  devoted  his  life, 
and  urged  almost  with  his  last  breath  that  his  civil  rights 
bill  should  be  taken  care  of.  May  we  do  what  we  can  to 
aid  in  the  accomplishment  of  this,  his  last  wish,  and  may 
it  be  our  endeavor  to  emulate  his  example  of  devotion  to 
every  duty,  and  thus  to  show  that  we  have  not  forgotten 
his  teaching. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  move  that  the  Eesolutions  be  adopted. 

Mr.  CHARLES  R.  CODMAN  of  Boston  next  spoke  as  follows : — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  He  has  read  history  to  little  purpose 
and  with  little  thought,  who  has  failed  to  perceive  a  divine 
law  in  human  affairs.  No  great  cause  has  ever  triumphed, 
no  great  reform  has  ever  been  accomplished,  no  gigantic 
wrong  has  ever  been  redressed,  without  the  personal 
agency  of  a  great  leader.  To  such  men  their  fellow-men 
have  always  turned  in  seasons  of  peril,  of  doubt  and  of 
difficulty ;  and  when  in  the  fulness  of  time  the  hour  lias- 
come  for  one  of  the  great  moral  revolutions  of  the  world T 
the  hour  has  brought  with  it  the  man  for  the  crisis.  We 
read  in  the  picturesque  pages  of  our  own  historian,  of 
the  heroic  struggles  of  the  Dutch  republicans,  of  their 
reverses,  their  sufferings  and  their  final  triumph ;  and  the 
grand  figure  of  William  the  Silent  stands  forth  in  bold 
relief  as  their  leader,  their  guardian  and  their  guide.  We 
are  told  "  that  as  long  as  he  lived  he  was  the  guiding  star 
of  a  whole  brave  nation,  and  when  he  died  the  little 
children  cried  in  the  streets."  The  name  of  Wilberforce 
is  inseparably  linked  with  that  grandest  act  in  English 
history,  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves  in  the  British 
colonies.  This  great  and  earnest  man  seems  to  have  been 
providentially  raised  to  awaken  and  inform  the  people, 
and  without  him,  humanly  speaking,  the  great  act  of 


46  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

justice  would  never  have  been  performed.  So,  too,  in 
our  own  revolutionary  days,  as  we  read  the  history  of 
that  time,  it  almost  seems  as  if  our  independence  could 
not  have  been  achieved  if  we  had  had  no  Washington. 
And  in  the  suppression  of  the  great  rebellion  we  are  not 
too  near  those  days  of  conflict  and  trial  to  fail  to  recog 
nize  that,  in  that  crisis  of  our  destinies,  the  wiser  Will 
that  governs  human  affairs  gave  us  a  heaven-born  leader 
of  men.  In  the  providence  of  God  there  are  no  accidents, 
and  it  was  something  more  potent  than  the  chances  of  a 
political  convention  that  gave  us  Abraham  Lincoln  for 
our  President. 

He  whom  we  mourn  to-day  was  one  of  these  providen 
tial  men.  His  was  the  allotted  mission  to  rouse  the 
conscience  of  the  American  people,  and  in  season  and  out 
of  season  that  resolute  and  unfaltering  voice  was  heard, 
not  so  much  pleading  as  demanding,  ever  urging,  ever 
pointing  the  way.  No  rest  for  SUMXER  if  a  single  step 
was  gained.  Others  would  fain  pause,  if  only  to  take 
breath  and  note  what  had  been  done,  but  with  restless 
energy  he  was  always  crying  "  Excelsior,"  counting  noth 
ing  as  done  while  anything  remained  to  do,  struggling, 
urging,  exhorting,  remonstrating,  reproving,  denounc 
ing,  never  satisfied,  never  believing  the  work  at  an  end, 
in  the  vanguard  always,  foremost  for  the  restriction  of 
slavery,  foremost  for  emancipation,  foremost  for  recon 
ciliation. 

And  now,  Mr.  Speaker,  he  is  gone,  and  his  great  task 
is  left  well-nigh  finished.  As  we  cast  our  tributes  upon 
his  grave,  we  will  not  say  that  his  end  is  untimely.  He 
has  done  a  great  and  noble  work,  and  he  falls  at  last  in 
the  full  possession  of  his  great  mental  powers,  with  his 
eye  not  dim  nor  his  natural  force  abated,  as  the  good, 
soldier  falls  at  his  post  with  all  his  armor  on. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  do  not  forget  that  it  is  my  privilege  to 
speak  here  to-day  as  one  of  the  representatives  of  the 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  47 

city  and  of  the  ward  in  which  he  lived  for  so  many  years. 
Born  almost  under  the  shadow  of  this  State  House,  bred 
in  our  public  schools,  he  was  always  in  heart  and  soul,  as 
well  as  by  birth,  a  Bostonian.  With  devoted  friends 
throughout  the  whole  civilized  world  who  revered  and 
admired  him — for  in  all  countries  the  lovers  of  art,  of 
literature,  of  science  and  of  liberty  were  his  friends — it 
is  here  in  Massachusetts,  and  chiefly  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Boston,  that  his  death  will  be  felt  as  a  personal 
loss.  We  in  Boston  love  to  think  of  him  as  one  of  our 
boys,  going  to  the  Latin  school  and  taking  the  Franklin 
medal,  and  giving  an  early  promise  of  future  greatness. 
We  delight  to  remember  that  his  home  for  many  years, 
on  the  north  side  of  Beacon  Hill,  was  in  the  street  next 
to  that  which  contains  the  little  colony  of  colored  people. 
The  great  champion  and  advocate  of  their  race  was  well 
placed  in  their  neighborhood.  Many  a  fugitive  slave  has 
found  refuge  and  concealment  in  those  lanes  and  alleys, 
and  some  are  living  there  to-day ;  and  the  devotion  of  all 
of  them  to  CHARLES  SUMNER  is  equalled  only  by  his  loy 
alty  to  them.  Deep  is  their  grief  at  his  loss,  and  all  their 
brethren  are  mourners  with  them ;  for  nothing  has  ever 
shaken  their  faithful  attachment.  No  matter  if  the  Sen 
ator  changed  his  party  associations  ;  they  well  understood 
that  he  was  always  faithful  to  them.  If  they  could  not 
vote  with  him,  they  were  always  ready  to  vote  for  him. 
Some  of  them  may  have  been  ignorant,  uneducated, 
simple,  but  their  hearts  always  told  them  that  their  friend 
was  true,  and  it  was  simply  impossible  to  make  them 
believe  otherwise. 

But  I  should  do  feeble  justice  to  a  fragrant  memory  if 
I  do  not  call  to  mind  the  essential  purity  of  the  personal 
character  of  CHARLES  SUMXER.  Lofty  as  were  his  aims 
as  a  public  man,  stainless  as  was  his  integrity  as  a  states 
man,  his  private  and  daily  life  was  absolutely  unspotted 
and  blameless.  The  driven  snow  is  not  whiter  than  his 


48  CHARLES    SUMXEK. 

reputation,  and  slander  itself  can  find  nothing  to  assail  in 
any  act  of  his.  The  frailties  of  many  a  great  statesman, 
of  many  an  honest  public  man,  have  marred  his  fame  and 
diminished  his  usefulness,  but  no  blot  will  stain  the 
historic  page  that  records  the  services  and  virtues  of  our 
great  Senator. 


Mr.  GEORGE  J.  SANGER  of  Danyers,  then  addressed  the  Chair  and 
said : — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  When  the  great  and  good  die  it  is  well 
to  pause,  and  looking  at  what  they  have  been,  calling  up 
their  virtues,  their  achievements,  their  character,  fix  in 
our  hearts  the  memory  of  these,  and  thus  put  ourselves  to 
fresh  obligation  for  their  existence.  And  to-day  it  is  well 
to  call  before  us  the  great  and  noble  life  of  CHARLES 
SUMNER — our  felloAV-citizen,  reared  amid  the  influences 
of  our  institutions,  surrounded  in  youth  and  early  man 
hood  with  the  moral  atmosphere  of  our  Commonwealth — 
cultured  in  our  schools  and  university ;  ours  by  official 
position,  ours  because  he  gave  honor  to  the  position  of 
trust  we  had  committed  to  his  keeping.  But  he  was  not 
only  a  citizen  of  Massachusetts ;  he  was  a  citizen  of  our 
whole  country.  His  was  a  wider  field  than  a  city  or 
State.  He  loved  the  unit  only  as  a  part  of  the  whole 
and  for  the  good  of  the  whole.  And  the  love  of  his 
country  was  so  true  and  wise,  that  it  sought  no  good  even 
for  his  country  that  came  through  wrong  and  injustice  to 
any.  His  was  a  charity — in  the  true  apostolic  sense  of 
the  word — that  never  failed;  in  which  hope  found  its 
fruition  and  faith  became  sight.  But  he  has  gone  from 
us  ;  for  us  no  more  to  toil,  for  us  no  more  to  stand  as  the 
impersonation  of  justice,  as  the  concentration  of  recti 
tude.  We  can  give  his  dust  our  tears,  and  with  gentle 
hand  commit  it  to  the  kindred  earth.  We  can  give  him, 
as  a  State,  our  mournful  farewell,  and  with  all  the  lovers 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  49 

of  good  men,  pray  that  his  mantle  may  fall  on  those  who 
shall  succeed  him. 

Great  as  a  scholar,  his  admiration  for  the  great  never 
cooled  his  love  for  the  lowly.  Great  as  a  statesman,  his 
was  the  wisdom  that  saw  that  only  "  righteousness  exalt- 
eth  a  nation."  He  was  a  man  of  "open  vision."  The 
past  he  made  tributary  to  his  judgment,  and  with  rever 
ence  for  what  age  had  to  teach,  he  combined  the  insight 
to  see  the  demand  of  the  hour  and  the  courage  to  go  for 
ward.  He  knew,  what  the  world  has  been  slow  to  learn, 
that  in  righteousness  there  is  no  failure.  His  day  was  a 
day  of  great  responsibility.  A  wrong,  colossal  in  propor 
tions  and  foul  in  every  attribute,  held  control  of  the  Gov 
ernment.  Men  had  compromised ;  but  only  evil  thrives 
under  such  treatment.  To  him  there  came  the  clear  sight 
that  is  the  reward  of  unbending  rectitude,  and  his  voice 
gave  no  uncertain  sound.  Neither  proffered  honor  nor 
intimidation  could  bind  him ;  he  had  found  the  strait 
and  narrow  way,  and  to  him  it  was  life.  He  had  faith  ; 
not  the  faith  of  a  dogma  but  of  a  principle  ;  it  might  cost 
life,  fortune,  position  to  the  individual,  but  the  end  would 
be  a  full  compensation.  It  was  this  that  constituted  his 
greatness.  The  past  witnessed  its  worth,  and  he  knew 
the  future  would  testify  of  its  success.  But  why  should 
I  spend  time  in  the  analysis  of  his  character ;  and  surely 
I  need  say  no  word  to  touch  your  feelings.  We  say  of 
the  one  we  mourn,  that  he  is  dead.  We  speak  of  our 
loss.  But  nothing  that  is  good  ever  dies,  for  it  is  ever 
lasting.  What  he  accomplished  is  secure.  His  pure  life, 
his  unbending  rectitude,  his  complete  fidelity — they  are 
our  possession.  They  belong  to  the  world  and  can  never 
pass  away.  They  abide  for  us.  They  will  live  to  teach 
the  future.  In  the  crisis-hour  of  the  future,  when  men 
shall  seek  some  light  to  guide,  they  will  turn  to  this 
memory,  and  in  it  find  counsel  and  support.  What  he 
has  done,  we  will  teach  to  our  children,  and  our  children's 
7 


50  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

children  shall  live  anew  in  the  benefaction  of  this  life. 
As  the  great  river  of  our  country  has  built  up  through 
the  aires  on  either  bank  the  broad  acres  on  which  city  and 
village  stand  secure,  so  the  great  and  good  who  leave  us 
make  possible  the  future.  Then,  in  the  assured  heritage 
of  his  integrity,  let  us  abide.  In  the  light  of  his  just 
and  perfect  life,  let  us  live. 


Mr.  JOSHUA  B.  SMITH  of  Cambridge,  then  addressed  the  Speaker 
and  was  recognized. 

[Mr.  Smith's  close  relations  with  Mr.  SUMNER  for  many  years,  his 
recent  return  from  Washington  where  he  had  been  as  the  bearer  of 
the  "  Rescinding  Resolutions,"  and  where  but  a  few  hours  before  he 
had  felt  the  grasp  of  his  friend's  hand ;  the  sacred  memories  and 
personal  griefs,  and  the  quickened  sense  of  the  loss  of  a  great  and 
true  friend,  made  too  large  a  demand  upon  his  control  of  voice  to 
enable  him  to  utter  a  word,  and  he  presently  resumed  his  seat. 
The  hushed  stillness  of  the  House  was  profoundly  impressive, 
making  the  "  silence  golden,"  and  this  was  maintained  for  several 
minutes.*] 


Mr.  CHARLES  HALE  of  Boston  then  rose  and  said : — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  Our  friend  from  Cambridge  has  made 
the  most  eloquent  speech  that  is  possible.  It  is  with 
reluctance  that  I  intrude  upon  the  silence. 

Mr.  HALE  continued : — 

It  is  peculiarly  fitting  that  in  this  hall  expression 
should  be  given  to  the  grief  which,  at  this  moment, 
oppresses  the  public  mind  everywhere.  Everywhere  it 
is  remembered  that  Mr.  SUMNEK  was,  at  the  time  of 
his  decease,  the  "father"  of  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States ;  the  oldest  Senator  by  consecutive  service,  the 

*  Sec  page  57. 


LEGISLATIVE   PROCEEDINGS.  51 

most  conspicuous  member  of  that  illustrious  body,  and 
that    he    served    as    Senator   from   Massachusetts   for   a 
longer  period  than  any  of  his  predecessors.     The  eulo 
gists  of  public  men,  dying  in  posts  of  high  station  or  in 
retirement  after  having  held  such  posts,  have  generally 
been  called  to  recount  the  many  offices  they  have  held ; 
to  point  out  how  they  have  risen — sometimes  how  rapidly 
they  have  risen — from  one  round  of  the  political  ladder  to 
another ;  how,  having  been  found  faithful  in  a  few  things 
they  have  been  put  over  many  things,  and   have  held 
town,   county  and  State  offices,  and  then  one  and  other 
position  in  the  national  councils.     So,  too,  we  have  been 
asked  to  admire  the  honorable  service  of  our  statesmen 
in  diverse  positions  of  public  trust ;  in  executive  office  or 
administrative  positions  of  the  State  or  Nation ;  in  service 
abroad  or  at  home  relating  to  the  foreign  relations  of  the 
country;  sometimes,  also,  in  military  service,  diversify 
ing  their  labors  in  civil  life.     Mr.  SUMNER'S  public  life, 
not  less  illustrious,  has  none  of  these  characteristics  of 
variety.     He  entered  the  public  service  as  a  Senator  in 
the   Congress  of  the  United    States   from   the    State    of 
Massachusetts  ;  and  in  that  place,  without  interruption  of 
that  service,  he  has  died.     From  an  early  age  he  held  a 
State  commission  as  justice  of  the  peace ;  and  he  was  a 
member  of  the  Convention  in  1853  for  the  revision  of  the 
State  Constitution.     With  no  other  exceptions,  I  think, 
than  these,  he  never  held  office  by  popular  election,  and 
he  never  held  office  by  executive  appointment.     No  man 
date  of  commission  summoned  him  into  public  life  less 
distinguished  than  that  of  the  Commonwealth  of  Massa 
chusetts,  expressed  by  the  voice  of  her  Senate  and  House 
of  Kepresentatives  in  General  Court  assembled ;  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end,  no  field  of  public  service  engaged 
his  mighty  powers  less  broad  or  less  elevated  than  that  of 
the  Senate  of  the  whole  Union. 

This  hall  was  the  scene  of  that  extraordinary  summons 


52  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

to  exalted  public  position  of  one  who  had  never  placed 
himself  among  aspirants  for  office.  Of  the  circumstances 
attending  that  summons  nothing  more  need  be  said  than 
that,  to  whatever  criticism  they  may  be  obnoxious,  no 
criticism  can  attach  to  Mr.  SUMNER'S  part  in  them  ;  or, 
rather,  it  is  to  be  said  that  he  had  no  part  in  them  what 
ever.  Indeed,  some  of  his  supporters  were  disposed  to 
make  it  a  matter  of  complaint  that  during  the  memorable 
contest  which  introduced  him  to  public  life,  not  a  word, 
a  syllable,  or  even  whisper,  could  be  elicited  from  their 
candidate  to  aid  in  his  election.  Whatever  combinations 
may  have  been  made,  he  had  no  hand  in  them ;  from  all 
such  things  he  held  himself  wholly  aloof.  He  sometimes 
made  addresses  at  public  meetings  and  conventions,  but 
he  took  no  part  in  any  legislative  caucus — if  any  there 
were — in  which  his  name  was  brought  forward  as  a  can 
didate  for  office  ;  and  after  that  first  extraordinary  elec 
tion  in  1851,  so  honorable  to  him,  on  each  recurrence  of 
the  expiration  of  his  six  years'  term,  never  was  there 
occasion  for  a  caucus ;  his  reelection  to  the  Senate  in 
each  case,  generally  almost  unanimous,  always  without 
arrangement  or  management  by  anybody,  certainly  with 
out  a  word  from  himself,  occurred  as  regularly  as  the 
return  of  the  seasons  in  their  due  order.  Mr.  SUMNER 
had  no  occasion  to  lift  a  finger  to  help  it ;  he  might  with 
as  much  reason  have  beckoned  the  sun  to  rise. 

In  viewing  the  public  life  of  Mr.  SUMNER  as  Senator, 
it  will  perhaps  be  said  that  his  character  did  not  particu 
larly  fit  him  to  lead  in  a  parliamentary  assembly ;  or,  in 
other  words,  that  he  was  an  orator  rather  than  a  debater. 
Such  a  criticism  would  reflect  no  discredit  on  the  talents 
and  attainments  of  Mr.  SUMNER,  even  if  it  had  more  solid 
foundation  than  can  justly  be  claimed  for  it.  The  Senate 
of  the  United  States,  as  he  rightly  considered,  is  not  pre 
cisely  to  be  regarded  as  a  mere  assembly  for  the  taking 
of  votes  and  the  passing  of  laws.  Whether  from  the  cir- 


LEGISLATIVE   PKOCEEDINGS.  53 

cumstance  that  thither  are  sent  the  greatest  men  of  the 
Nation,  or  that  in  the  lower  house,  by  reason  of  its  num 
bers,  or  of  the  immense  accumulation  of  business  there, 
or  from  some  other  cause,  debate  is  rather  stifled  than 
allowed,  the  Senate  has  become  to  a  much  greater  degree 
than  the  lower  chamber  in  our  National  Government  what 
the  House  of  Commons  is  under  the  British  Constitution : 
the  great  forum  of  the  nation  for  the  general  discussion 
of  public  affairs  in  all  their  bearings.  But  apart  from 
this,  I  should  not  be  disposed  to  admit  the  force  of  the 
criticism.  The  four  great  qualities  of  a  model  debater 
have  been  thus  defined :  A  genial  temper  in  debate ; 
courtesy  and  dignity  of  deportment ;  profound  knowl 
edge  of  his  subject;  a  thorough  preparation.  Which  of 
these  did  not  Mr.  SUMNER  possess?  or,  rather,  which  of 
them  did  he  not  possess  in  the  most  eminent  degree? 
The  fact  is,  Mr.  SUMNER  knew  parliamentary  law  as  he 
knew  all  other  law,  from  a  profound  study  going  back  to 
first  principles  ;  and  he  had  ever  in  mind  the  rules  based 
on  the  fundamental  principle,  that  its  purpose  is  to  aid  in 
giving  faithful  expression  to  the  true  opinion  and  will  of 
the  assembly ;  and  that  in  coming  to  that  expression  it  is 
not  so  much  the  right  of  every  member  to  be  heard,  as  it 
is  the  duty  of  the  assembly  to  collect  every  contribution 
to  the  common  stock  of  knowledge  or  information  which 
any  member  may  be  able  to  furnish,  to  aid  the  assembly 
in  coming  to  the  best  result.  For  parliamentary  law, 
considered  as  a  series  of  artificial  rules  capable  of  use  in 
cunning  hands  to  pervert  it  from  this,  its  true  purpose, 
he  had  no  taste.  Sir,  Mr.  SUMNER  was  an  accomplished 
debater ;  a  debater  of  the  school  which  thinks  of  the 
soundness  of  its  cause,  the  strength  of  reason  and  the 
force  of  argument ;  not  one  who  seeks  to  gain  personal 
adherents  for  the  measure  he  advocates,  irrespective  of 
its  intrinsic  merits,  eager  to  carry  it  by  some  parlia 
mentary  artifice,  by  which  an  assembly  may  ingeniously 


54  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

be  forced,  almost  against  its  will,  to   accept  worse  for 
better. 

In  the  national  loss,  there  is  a  mitigation  in  the  value 
of  the  lesson  that  may  be  learned  from  it.  As  we  gather 
round  the  grave  of  our  illustrious  Senator,  may  we  all 
remember,  especially  may  the  young  men  HOAV  coming 
forward  observe,  that  this  great  man,  whom  the  whole 
world  mourns,  attained  and  held  his  high  place,  although 
he  never  packed  a  caucus,  pulled  a  wire,  or  rolled  a  log ; 
that  he  never  sought  office  for  favorites  or  personal  adhe 
rents  ;  was  never  concerned  in  any  use  of  money  for 
elections ;  and  let  us  resolve,  each  for  himself,  so  far  as 
in  him  lies,  that  as  the  assault  on  Mr.  SUMXER  in  1856 
was  the  signal  for  a  great  national  movement  which 
removed  from  the  Nation  the  ban  of  slavery,  so  may  we 
hope  that  his  death  in  1874  may  prove  the  signal  for  a 
great  national  movement  that  shall  give  to  the  country  a 
pure  political  atmosphere  such  as  he  would  have  loved 
to  breathe. 

Mr.  JOHN  E.  FITZGERALD  of  Boston  then  spoke  as  follows : — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  We  read  in  the  history  of  the  ancient 
Republic  of  Greece,  that  when  the  Spartan  General 
Brasidas  died  in  battle,  the  leading  Spartans  came  to 
condole  with  his  mother.  Having  asked  those  who  visited 
her,  if  her  son  died  as  became  a  Spartan,  they  said,  "He 
has  left  no  man  in  Sparta  like  him."  She  answered, 
"Not  so,  my  friends,  Brasidas  was  an  honorable  man,  but 
Sparta  has  many  nobler  and  greater  than  he."  And 
to-day,  sir,  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts  mourns 
the  loss  of  her  greatest  son,  and  from  one  end  of  the 
Republic  to  the  other,  the  universal  verdict  comes  to  her, 
"He  has  left  no  man  in  the  Republic  like  him."  Would 
that  Massachusetts  could  say,  as  did  the  Spartan  mother 
of  old,  "  SUMNER  was  a  great  man  but  we  have  many 


LEGISLATIVE   PROCEEDINGS.  55 

nobler  and  greater  than  he."  Twenty-three  years  ago 
Massachusetts  clothed  him  with  the  official  robe  of  Sen 
ator;  to-day  that  official  mantle  is  laid  at  the  feet  of 
Massachusetts,  pure  and  unsullied,  without  spot  or 
blemish.  What  means,  sir,  this  universal  grief  of  the 
Nation  for  the  death  of  one  man  ?  Ah  !  sir,  it  is  a  tribute 
of  respect,  not  so  much  to  the  eloquence,  scholarly  attain 
ments  and  statesmanship  of  CHAELES  SUMNER,  as  to  his 
honesty  and  patriotism,  equalling  those  of  the  better  clays 
of  the  ancient  Republics.  In  high-toned  patriotism,  spot 
less  purity  of  character,  and  unswerving  fidelity  to  duty, 
he  had  no  superior  in  the  Senate  of  the  Nation.  Threats 
could  not  deter  him,  nor  (what  is  often  more  dangerous) 
the  soft  blandishments  of  friends  mislead  him  from  the 
path  of  rectitude.  Hence,  sir,  the  nation  mourns  his  loss 
at  a  time  when  the  example  of  his  noble  qualities  is  most 
needed  ;  at  a  time  when  statesmanship  like  his  is  becoming 
more  rare  and  less  influential ;  and  the  qualities  that  make 
up  the  wire-puller  and  trickster,  more  frequent  and  pow 
erful  in  the  politics  of  our  Republic.  And  standing  by 
his  bier  to-day,  how  best  can  we  show  our  appreciation  of 
the  great  virtues  that  have  made  SUMXER'S  name  famous 
forever  more  !  Unhappily  wre  cannot  say  "Massachusetts 
has  many  nobler  and  greater  than  he,"  but  we  can  select 
a  son  of  Massachusetts  possessed  in  some  degree  of  the 
virtues  which  characterized  him,  of  his  honesty  and  inde 
pendence  at  least.  Doing  this  we  honor  ourselves  and 
pay  the  highest  tribute  of  respect  to  the  life  and  services 
of  CHARLES  SUMNER. 


Mr.  ALBERT  PALMER  of  Boston  closed  the  addresses  of  the  day  in 
the  following  words  : — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  No  power  of  thought  or  speech  can 
measure  or  express  the  grief  and  mourning  of  this  hour. 
No  living  tongue  can  now  fully  portray  the  nation's  loss, 


56  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

or  speak  the  fit  consoling  word.     The  lips  that  once  could 
best  do  such  service  are  now  silent  and  sealed  in  death. 

Mr.  Speaker,  not  only  has  America  lost  her  greatest 
and  best  statesman,  but  the  world  has  lost  its  ablest  and 
most  devoted  friend.  It  was  said  of  Webster,  when  he 
died,  "  The  nation's  heart  beats  heavily  at  the  portals  of 
the  tomb."  SUMNER  is  dead,  and  the  whole  world's  heart 
will  beat  heavily  at  the  portals  of  his  tomb.  The  Resolu 
tions  fitly  enumerate  the  great  and  wonderful  accomplish 
ments  of  the  peerless  Senator — his  scholarship,  so  varied 
and  profound;  his  statesmanship,  so  wise,  so  impartial, 
so  just ;  his  vast  and  unequalled  knowledge  of  law,  con 
stitutional  and  international ;  his  mighty  power  of  speech 
and  argument,  which  made  the  world  his  audience-room 
and  nations  willing  listeners ;  his  industry,  so  untiring 
and  unremitting,  as  if  he  needed  to  supplement  merely 
ordinary  powers  by  extraordinary  diligence.  But  above 
all  these  shining  qualities  and  accomplishments  of  genius 
and  intellect,  or  rather  permeating  all,  was  that  unsullied 
virtue  and  perfect  integrity  which  now  in  this  sad  hour 
command  universal  assent  and  homage.  All  men  and 
parties  hasten  to  say  he  was  an  honest  man.  His  brilliant 
and  unrivalled  intellectual  powers  compel  universal  admi 
ration.  His  moral  integrity  will  inspire  universal  homage 
and  love.  His  character  was  monumental;  pure,  white 
and  unstained,  from  pedestal  to  capstone.  In  council 
chambers  and  legislative  halls  of  State  and  Nation  he  will 
be  missed  and  mourned,  but  not  less  in  every  humble 
hamlet  throughout  the  country.  The  full  and  almost 
broken  heart  of  my  friend,  the  member  from  Cambridge, 
too  full  for  utterance,  pays  the  best  and  most  eloquent 
tribute  to  our  loved  and  noble  statesman.  Let  not  our 
friend  seek  to  hide  the  tears  that  close  his  utterance  and 
forbid  him  speech  : 

"  'Tis  manliness  to  be  heart-broken  here, 
For  the  grave  of  earth's  best  nobleness  is  watered  by  the  tear." 


LEGISLATIVE    PBOCEEDESTGS.  57 

Wo  I^vc  to  recall  the  dying  words  of  our  great  men. 
"Remember  my  civil  rights  bill,"  said  the  great  Senator 
on  his  death-bed ;  and  shall  we  not  consider  those  words 
as  an  inheritance?  As  we* cherish  and  defend  the  civil 
and  equal  right  of  all,  we  shall  honor  and  cherish  the 
memory  of  CHARLES  SUMNER;  and  thus  shall  we  best 
commend  his  great  example  to  the  world. 

The  qu/stion  was  then  put  upon  the  Resolutions,  and  they  were 
unanimously  adopted,  by  a  rising  vote. 


At  the  e. truest  request  of  the  Committee  entrusted  with  the  duty 
of  preparing  this  volume  for  the  press,  Mr.  J.  B.  SMITH  of  Cambridge 
has  written  out  the  remarks  which  he  intended  to  have  made  in  the 
House  of  Representatives,  when  he  addressed  the  SPEAKER  as  de 
scribed  a';ove,  at  page  50.  They  are  as  follows: — 

Mr.  SPEAKER  :  Thirty-five  years  have  passed  since 
Colonel  Robert  G.  Shaw  was  a  babe  in  his  cradle.  On 
an  occasion  that  I  well  remember,  CHARLES  SUMNER  was 
a  guest  at  his  father's  table,  and  I  was  a  servant  stand 
ing  behind  his  chair.  The  question  of  slavery,  then  the 
general  topic  of  conversation,  was  under  discussion. 
One  of  the  guests  gave  expression  to  the  most  bitter 
feeling  I  ever  heard,  saying  that  "the  Abolitionists,  with 
their  negro  friends,  ought  to  be  hanged."  But  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Shaw,  the  father  and  mother  of  the  infant,  spoke 
strongly  in  favor  of  justice  and  freedom.  The  gentleman 
who  had  been  speaking  so  bitterly  asked  Mr.  SUMNER 
what  he  thought  of  the  negro  question.  Pointing  to  me 
he  replied,  "  Would  you  have  that  man  a  slave  ? "  And 
that  expression,  with  other  words  then  spoken,  cost  him 
his  social  position  for  years  in  Boston.  Slavery  had 
struck  its  roots  wide  and  deep ;  but  for  me  the  star  of 

8 


58  CHARLES     SUMMER. 

justice  rose  in  that  hour,  and  I  saw  it  shining,  for  the 
first  time,  through  the  dark  clouds  of  prejudice  that 
surrounded  me. 

A  few  years  after  that  I  was  with  that  child  on  Boston 
Common.  As  we  were  sitting  there,  I  noticed  that  he 
looked  intently  at  me,  and  presently  he  said,  fr  Smith, 
what  makes  your  hands  black?"  "Why,  my  boy,  God 
made  then  so,"  I  replied.  "Well,"  said  he,  "if  God 
made  them  so,  why  do  people  find  fault  with  it?" 
"Because  they  are  bad,"  I  answered.  He  gazed  at  me 
a  few  moments  without  speaking,  and  then  said,  "  Smith, 
some  clay  I'll  fight  for  you." 

When  he  was  only  twenty-five  years  of  age  this  child 
was  made  Colonel  of  the  Fifty-Fourth  Massachusetts  Vol 
unteers,  the  first  regiment  of  colored  soldiers  recruited 
in  this  State ;  and  then,  as  Colonel  Shaw,  led  the  colored 
troops  at  Fort  Wagner,  and  there  gave  his  life  for  his 
country  and  for  that  justice  and  freedom  that  had  been  a 
part  of  his  early  training. 

Thirty-two  years  after  the  noble  expressions  referred  to, 
of  Mr.  SUMNER,  I  was  a  guest  at  his  table  in  Washing 
ton.  While  we  were  seated  there,  a  party  of  Southern 
ers,  from  Georgia,  called  upon  Mr.  SUMNER  to  secure 
his  influence  in  what  he  considered  would  be  unjust  legis 
lation.  The  great  Senator  turned  again,  pointing  to  me, 
and  said :  "  There  is  my  friend ;  my  equal  at  home  and 
your  equal  anywhere ;  and  when  you  are  ready  to  make 
eternal  justice  law,  then  call  upon  me  and  I  will  help 
you,  and  not  before." 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  lived  out  two  generations,  and 
have  tasted  the  bitter  fruit  of  the  seed  planted  by  our 
fathers  eighty  years  ago.  I  have  had  the  doors  of  the 
Church  and  of  the  State  House  shut  in  my  face ;  but  I 
have  lived  to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  liberty,  and  to-day  I 
stand  the  peer  of  every  man  in  this  House,  and  this,  as 
I  believe,  through  the  life  and  labor  of  CHARLES  SUMNER. 


LEGISLATIVE    PROCEEDINGS.  59 

What  a  change  has  taken  place  within  the  forty  years 
of  my  remembrance  !  I  wish  I  could  picture  it.  In  those 
days  I  was  a  servant  in  a  family  travelling  through  the 
South.  They  stopped  in  Washington,  and  I  there  saw, 
for  the  first  time,  men,  women  and  children  sold  on  the 
auction-block  as  cattle  are  sold.  ~No  regard  was  paid  to 
age,  sex  or  relationship.  Husband  and  wife,  mother  and 
child,  were  parted  to  meet  no  more.  At  that  time,  if  a 
black  man's  child,  or  dying  wife,  cried  for  water  after  ten 
o'clock  at  night,  he  dared  not  go  into  the  streets  to  get 
it,  for  fear  of  arrest  and  the  watch-house.  And  if  the 
master  did  not  pay  the  fine  the  next  morning,  thirty-nine 
lashes  on  the  bare  back  was  the  black  man's  penalty.  In 
those  days  I  would  have  given  a  kingdom  to  have  been  a 
dog,  with  a  collar  on  my  neck  with  the  owner's  name 
upon  it,  for  that  would  have  protected  me. 

The  family  to  which  I  have  referred  was  invited  into 
the  country  to  dine,  and  I  stood  to  wait  upon  them. 
After  dinner  I  heard  the  sound  of  the  lash,  and  a  voice 
crying,  "  O  God,  have  mercy  !  "  I  stepped  out  into  the 
garden,  and,  looking  about  me,  saw  a  poor  girl  with  the 
blood  running  down  her  neck,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on 
the  shining  clouds  towards  the  setting  sun,  and  saying, 
"O  Jesus,  I  will  soon  be  with  thee,  and  then  my  soul 
will  shine  as  those  clouds,  and  I  will  be  thy  child."  It 
was  the  first  prayer  I  had  ever  heard,  and  there  I  swore 
eternal  hatred  to  slavery. 

Forty  years  after  that  I  went  again  to  Washington. 
Slavery  had  disappeared.  The  whipping-post  and  auc 
tion-block  were  gone.  The  star  that  I  saw  rise  was  now 
at  its  meridian.  It  shone  full  in  my  face.  I  was  in  a 
new  world.  I  was  as  free  as  air.  I  went  as  any  gentle 
man  might  go.  I  walked  to  the  cars,  I  went  to  Arling 
ton,  and  heard  no  word  of  insult.  I  had  every  attention 
paid  to  me  as  a  gentleman,  and  should  not  have  known 
that  I  was  a  black  man  if  I  had  not  looked  in  the  mirror. 


60  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

Now,  Mr.  Speaker,  CHARLES  SUMXER  did  it.  Five- 
and-twenty  years  ago  the  Anti-Slavery  sentiment  of  New 
England  fixed  upon  SUMXER  as  the  man  to  go  to  Wash 
ington  to  strike  the  first  blow.  You  speak  of  Sherman's 
march  from  Atlanta  to  the  sea  as  a  great  victory.  But 
that  was  nothing  compared  to  the  success  of  SUMXER. 
Sherman  had  the  Nation  at  his  back.  SUMXER  had 
simple  justice.  Sherman  had  a  hundred  thousand  men. 
SOIXER  fought  single-handed  and  alone.  Sherman  had 
the  wealth  of  the  Nation  laid  at  his  feet,  and  SUMXER 
had  only  the  prayers  of  the  poor. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  stand  here  amazed.  One  week  ago 
this  day  I  placed  in  the  hands  of  our  great  Senator  the 
Rescinding  Resolutions  of  this  Legislature.  As  he  read 
them  he  turned  his  head  and  wept  as  I  never  saw  man 
weep  before.  He  then  said,  "I  knew  Massachusetts 
would  do  me  justice." 

As  I  stood  here  I  could  not  but  think  of  that  passage 
of  Scripture  which  says,  "Jesus  wept."  Not  for  himself, 
but  for  a  poor,  unbelieving  world.  SUMXER  wept ;  not  for 
himself,  but  for  the  State  he  loved  and  served  so  well. 

Sir,  I  do  not  forget  in  this  hour  that,  little  more  than 
one  year  ago,  the  Legislature  censured  him.  To-day 
this  House  stands  ready  to  lay  the  wealth  of  the  State 
at  his  feet  to  honor  his  great  name. 

And  now,  sir,  that  great  life  has  ended  here.  That 
star  has  set.  And  while  it  rests  on  the  banks  of  eternity, 
awaiting  its  assignment  amid  the  bright  and  shining  lights 
in  the  canopy  of  heaven,  its  rays  still  lingering  on  the 
clouds  and  the  mountain-tops,  O  God,  I  pray  thee,  give 
us  one  to  take  hold  where  he  let  go — one  who  can  lighten 
us  through  this  dark  and  unkind  world,  until  thy  glory 
shall  shine  on  a  regenerated  land.  Then  justice,  honesty 
and  peace  shall  rule  the  Nation. 


LEGISLATIVE    ORDERS.  61 


COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS, 


IN  SENATE,  March  13,  1874. 

ORDERED,  That  a  committee  of  three  on  the  part  of 
the  Senate,  and  five  on  the  part  of  the  House,  be 
appointed  to  meet  the  Congressional  Committee  having 
in  charge  the  remains  of  SENATOR  SUMNER,  at  the  bound 
ary  line  of  the  Commonwealth. 

And  Messrs.  HAYES,  JACOBS  and  WARDWELL,  were 
appointed  the  committee  on  the  part  of  the  Senate. 

Sent  clown  for  concurrence. 

S.  N.  GIFFORD,  Clerk. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  March  13,  1874. 

Concurred  :  And  Messrs.  CODMAN  of  Boston,  ADAMS  of 
Quincy,  NOBLE  of  Westfield,  BLUNT  of  Haverhill,  and 
CUMMINGS  of  Woburn,  are  joined. 

GEO.  A.  HARDEN,  Clerk. 


62  CHARLES    SUMNER. 


COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS, 


IN  SENATE,  March  13,  1874. 

ORDERED,  That  a  committee  of  three  on  the  part  of 
the  Senate,  and  five  on  the  part  of  the  House,  be 
appointed  to  make  all  necessary  arrangements  for  the 
reception  of  the  body  of  SENATOR  SUMNER  and  for  the 
funeral  obsequies  in  this  Commonwealth,  which  shall  be 
held  in  King's  Chapel  on  Monday,  the  16th  inst.,  at  3 
o'clock,  P.  M. 

And  that  the  committee  be  authorized  to  provide 
appropriate  drapery  for  the  Chapel  on  the  occasion ;  and 
also  to  extend  an  invitation  to  the  City  Government  of 
Boston  to  be  present. 

And  Messrs.  STICKNEY,  BACON  and  MERRILL,  were 
appointed  the  committee  on  the  part  of  the  Senate. 

Sent  clown  for  concurrence. 

S.  X.  GIFFORD,  Clerk. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  March  13,  1874. 

Concurred :  And  Messrs.  PERKINS  of  Boston,  BUFFUM 
of  Lynn,  SLADE  of  Somerset,  CROCKER  of  Boston,  and 
ESTABROOK  of  Worcester,  are  joined. 

GEO.  A.  MARDEX,  Clerk. 


LEGISLATIVE    ORDERS.  63 


COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS, 


IN  SENATE,  March  13,  1874. 

ORDERED,  That  a  Committee  of  two  on  the  part  of 
the  Senate,  and  three  on  the  part  of  the  House,  be 
appointed  to  take  suitable  measures  to  provide  for  the 
delivery  of  an  Oration  before  the  Executive  and  Legis 
lative  branches  of  this  Commonwealth,  upon  the  life, 
character  and  public  services  of  CHARLES  SUMNER,  by 
such  person,  and  at  such  time  and  place,  as  may  seem 
to  them  appropriate. 

Sent  down  for  concurrence. 

S.  N.  GIFFORD,  Clerk. 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  March  13,  1874. 

Concurred :  And  Messrs.  SMITH  of  Cambridge,  PHIL 
LIPS  of  Salem,  and  PHILLIPS  of  Springfield,  are 
appointed  the  Committee  on  the  part  of  the  House. 

GEO.  A.  MARDEN,  Clerk. 


IN  SENATE,  March  17,  1874. 

Messrs.    MERRILL   and   YERRY  are   appointed   on  the 
part  of  the  Senate. 

S.  N.  GIFFORD,  Clerk. 


COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS, 


BY  His  EXCELLENCY  WILLIAM  B.  WASHBURN,  GOVERNOR 
A    PROCLAMATION. 


WHEREAS,  Three  o'clock  of  Monday  afternoon,  six 
teenth  instant,  has  been  determined  upon  as  the  hour 
for  the  funeral  of  CHARLES  SUMNER  ;  and 

WHEREAS,  It  is  believed  the  people  of  the  Common 
wealth,  without  distinction  of  party,  will  desire  to  par 
ticipate  in  this  last  tribute  of  respect  and  affection  to  the 
great  Senator  who  served  them  so  long  and  so  well ; 

Therefore,  I  request  the  officials  of  cities  and  towns 
throughout  the  Commonwealth  to  make  provision  for 
solemnizing  the  hour  named,  by  the  tolling  of  bells,  and 
such  other  services  as  they  may  deem  appropriate  to  the 
occasion. 

Given  at  the  Executive  Department,  Boston,  under  the  seal 
of  the  Commonwealth,  this  fourteenth  day  of  March, 
A.  D.  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  seventy-four. 

WILLIAM   B.  WASHBURN. 


By  His  Excellency  the  Governor  : 

OLIVER  WARNER,  Secretary. 

God  save  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts. 


THE  OBSEQUIES. 


THE    OBSEQUIES. 


THE  announcement  in  Washington  that  CHARLES 
SUMNEE  was  dead,  fell  like  a  pall  upon  the  Capitol. 

In  each  Legislative  Chamber  there  was  the  hush  of 
death. 

In  the  Senate,  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  the  vacant 
chair. 

The  simple  words  of  mourning,  spoken  by  Senator 
ANTHONY  when  he  announced  the  death  of  Mr.  SUM- 
KER,  had  a  touching  significance  -rarely  equalled  even 
in  that  chamber.  But  more  eloquent  than  these  words 
of  tenderness  was  this  vacant  chair — a  silent  witness  of 
the  great  Senator's  departure.  It  was  draped  in  black 
— a  mute  emblem  of  the  national  grief — and  upon  the 
desk  before  it  were  the  fresh  flowers  which  loving 
hands  had  placed  there  in  memoriam. 

The  proceedings  in  both  Houses  on  Thursday  were 
brief,  but  the  simple  formalities  of  the  passage  of  the 
Resolutions,  and  the  appointment  of  the  Committees  to 
arrange  for  the  funeral  and  to  accompany  the  body  to 
Massachusetts,  were  full  of  tenderness  and  solemnity. 

On  Friday  morning  the  remains  of  Mr.  SUMNER  were 
placed  in  the  Rotunda  of  the  Capitol,  where  they  lay  in 
state  until  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  the  hour  of  the 
funeral  services  in  the  Senate  Chamber. 


68  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

At  the  close  of  these  services  the  funeral  procession 
moved  to  the  station,  and  at  three  o'clock  a  special 
train  started  for  New  York,  arriving  at  that  city  at 
midnight,  where  the  Committee  rested,  and  the  honored 
remains  were  placed  under  guard. 

On  Saturday  morning,  the  fourteenth  of  March,  the 
special  cars,  draped  in  mourning,  moved  out  of  the 
station  on  their  way  to  Boston. 

The  Joint  Special  Committee  of  the  Legislature  met 
the  train  at  Springfield,  where  its  Chairman  (Hon. 
FRANCIS  B.  HAYES)  addressed  the  delegation  in  the  fol 
lowing  words  : 

Mr.  Chairman  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Congressional  Committee  : 

The  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  has  charged  us  with  the 
duty  of  waiting  upon  you  and  receiving  the  sacred  remains 
of  our  beloved  Senator.  With  the  remains,  permit  us  to  con 
duct  you  and  the  members  of  the  Massachusetts  delegation 
in  Congress,  as  honored  guests  of  the  State,  to  its  capital, 
when  it  shall  please  you  to  continue  your  journey. 

An  appropriate  reply  to  this  greeting  was  made  by 
Senator  ANTHONY,  in  behalf  of  the  delegation. 

At  every  station  a  concourse  of  people  received,  with 
tolling  bells,  with  craped  and  drooping  flags,  and  with 
uncovered  heads,  the  sacred  dust  of  the  man  whom  they 
loved  and  reverenced.  Tenderly  the  great  heart  of  Mas 
sachusetts  beat,  as  she  wept  for  her  honored  son.  It 
seemed,  at  the  moment,  as  if  no  tribute  could  express  his 
high  service ;  no  loyalty  or  reverence  his  great  fidelity. 
But  the  quickened  sensibilities,  the  tenderest  emotions, 
and  even  the  tears  of  a  great  people  were  freely  given. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  69 

At  seven  o'clock,  on  Saturday  evening,  the  booming 
guns  announced  to  Boston  the  arrival  of  the  funeral 
train.  For  hours,  awaiting  patiently  its  approach, 
uncounted  thousands,  of  every  class,  had  thronged  the 
avenues  leading  to  the  station. 

The  spontaneous  impulse  to  do  honor  to  the  great  soul 
that  would  no  longer  stand  in  the  flesh,  and  move  as 
aforetime  with  a  presence  so  majestic  in  our  streets, 
was  as  remarkable  as  it  was  significant. 

The  great  meeting  of  the  citizens  of  Boston,  in 
Faneuil  Hall,  but  a  few  hours  before,  had  struck  the 
key-note  of  the  day.  The  student  left  his  book,  the 
clerk  his  desk,  the  artisan  his  tool,  and  the  laborer  his 
spade.  The  inspiration  of  the  occasion,  the  touched  and 
quickened  sensibilities,  intensified  by  the  commingling 
of  thousands  of  men  with  a  common  purpose,  seemed 
to  charge  the  city  with  an  unusual  emotion. 

As  the  shades  of  evening  fell  upon  the  multitudes 
thronging  the  streets,  few  can  forget  the  reverent  hush 
which  had  settled  upon  them,  or  the  expression  in 
every  face,  of  the  solemn  purpose  that  had  drawn  and 
held  them  waiting  there. 

The  Legislative  Committee  having  in  charge  the 
reception  of  the  body  of  the  Senator,  was  in  attend 
ance  at  the  station.  A  procession  was  formed  in  silence, 
and  moved  to  the  State  House,  in  the  gloom  of 
approaching  night,  through  streets  lined  with  people 
standing  uncovered  in  honor  of  their  dead. 

In  this  great  demonstration  of  respect,  it  seemed  as 
if  strong  men  bowed  themselves.  The  doors  were  shut 
in  the  streets  and  the  windows  were  darkened,  because 


70  CHARLES    SUMNEB. 

a  great  "man  goeth  to  his  long  home,  and  the  mourners 
go  about  the  streets."  A  silver  cord  had  indeed  been 
loosed,  and  a  golden  bowl  had  been  broken ;  the  dust 
was  to  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was,  as  the  spirit  had 
returned  to  God  who  gave  it.  But  the  mourning  of 
the  people  was  not  for  him ;  it  w^as  for  themselves  and 
for  their  children. 

A  vast  concourse  of  people  were  at  the  State  House 
waiting  the  funeral  procession.  The  coffin  was  borne 
slowly  up  into  the  Doric  Hall  and  placed  upon  the 
catafalque. 

Here  the  Governor  of  the  State,  the  members  of  his 
Council  and  Staff,  and  the  Legislative  Committees,  were 
in  attendance  to  receive  the  Committee  of  the  United 
States  Senate,  and  the  members  of  the  Massachusetts 
Delegation  in  Congress  by  whom  they  were  accompanied. 

Colonel  STOKER  then  introduced  Senator  ANTHONY, 
Chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Senators,  who  said : — 

MAY  IT  PLEASE  YOUR  EXCELLENCY: 

We  are  commanded  by  the  Senate  to  render  back  to  3*011  3*our 
illustrious  dead.  Nearty  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  3*ou  dedi 
cated  to  the  public  service  a  man  wiio  was  even  then  greatly 
distinguished.  He  remained  in  it,  quickening  its  patriotism, 
informing  its  counsels  and  leading  in  its  deliberations,  until, 
having  survived  in  continuous  service  all  his  original  associates, 
he  has  closed  his  earthly  career.  With  reverent  hands,  we 
bring  to  3*011  his  mortal  part,  that  it  may  be  committed  to  the 
soil  of  the  renowned  Commonwealth  that  gave  him  birth.  Take 
it ;  it  is  3*ours.  The  part  which  we  do  not  return  to  3*011  is  not 
wholly  yours  to  receive,  nor  altogether  ours  to  give.  It  belongs 
to  the  countiy,  to  freedom,  to  civilization,  to  humanity.  We 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  71 

come  to  you  with  the  emblems  of  mourning  which  faintly  t}~pify 
the  sorrow  that  dwells  in  the  breasts  which  they  cover.  So 
much  we  must  concede  to  the  infirmity  of  human  nature.  But 
in  the  view  of  reason  and  philosophy,  is  it  not  rather  a  matter 
of  high  exultation  that  a  life  so  pure  in  its  personal  qualities, 
so  lofty  in  its  public  aims,  so  fortunate  in  the  fruition  of  noble 
effort,  has  closed  safely,  without  a  stain,  before  age  had  impaired 
its  intellectual  vigor,  before  time  had  dimmed  the  lustre  of  its 
genius  ! 

MAY  IT  PLEASE  YOUR  EXCELLENCY  :  Our  mission  is  completed. 
We  commit  to  you  the  body  of  CHARLES  SUMNER.  His  undying 
fame  the  Muse  of  History  has  already  taken  into  her  keeping. 


Governor  WASHBUKN  advancing  towards  the  Senate 
Committee,  replied : — 

GENTLEMEN  :  It  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  receive  from 
your  hands  all  that  remains  of  our  great  Senator.  I  wish  to 
thank  you,  in  the  name  of  the  State,  for  your  labor  of  love,  in 
thus  transmitting  to  our  keeping  this  precious  dust.  We 
receive  it  at  your  hands  with  the  assurance  that  it  shall  be 
guarded  most  tenderly,  and  the  spot  to  which  it  shall  be  borne 
for  its  final  resting-place,  being  baptized  by  such  precious  blood, 
shall  ever  hereafter  be  looked  upon  as  consecrated  ground.  In 
the  meantime,  I  commit  it  to  the  careful  keeping  of  the  Com 
mittee  of  our  Legislature,  selected  for  this  special  purpose. 
Permit  me  now  to  welcome  you  to  the  hospitalities  of  our  State, 
and  to  assure  you  that  no  efforts  of  ours  shall  be  wanting  to 
make  your  brief  stay  with  us  as  agreeable  as  possible  under  the 
circumstances  which  have  brought  you  hither. 

Thanking  you  again  for  }Tour  marked  sj'mpathy  in  this  hour 
of  sore  trial,  I  bid  you  all  a  hearty  welcome,  with  the  assurance 
that  your  tender  regards  on  this  occasion  shall  never  be  for 
gotten. 

Doric  Hall,  with  the  sacred  emblems  of  battle  enshrined 
in  its  alcoves,  was  draped  in  mourning  in  honor  of  the 


72  CHARLES    SUMNTSR. 

illustrious  dead.  The  affecting  historical  associations 
which  cluster  about  this  beautiful  hall  made  it  the  spot  of 
all  others  in  the  Commonwealth,  where,  for  a  brief  day, 
the  worn  and  weary  body  of  the  dead  Senator  should 
rest.  Here,  under  the  Dome  of  the  Capitol,  he  was  laid, 
canopied  with  flowers,  and  guarded  with  tender  vigilance 
by  a  company  of  that  race  to  whose  protection  he  had 
consecrated  his  life.* 

Sunday  morning  dawned.  The  draperies  of  black  and 
white,  festooned  from  the  cornices  and  arching  door 
ways,  made  of  the  silent  corridors  a  mausoleum.  The 
catafalque  was  covered  with  flowers.  Over  the  coffin, 
depending  from  the  ceiling,  was  a  wreath  of  smilax,  from 
which  radiated  a  drooping  vine,  encircling  the  columns  to 
their  base.  From  this  wreath  was  suspended  a  crown  of 
flowers,  and  from  this,  as  if  in  flight,  a  white  dove,  and 
from  its  beak  an  olive-branch ;  while  rare  flowers,  in 
masses  of  color,  in  every  graceful  form  of  cross  and 
wreath  and  trailing  vine,  gave  fragrance  and  beauty  to 
the  silent  hall. 

The  public  demonstration  during  the  day  in  the  streets 
leading  to  the  State  House  was  such  as  had  never  before 
been  witnessed  on  any  similar  occasion  in  Boston.  Mul 
titudes  of  people,  who  could  not  be  numbered,  crowded 
the  avenues  of  Beacon  Hill,  and  from  early  morning 
until  dusk  of  evening,  the  tireless  stream  of  humanity 
passed  through  the  open  doors  where  the  great  Senator 
lay  in  state. 

Silently,  decorously,  sadly,  the  vast  multitude  availed 
themselves  of  this  privilege.  The  old  and  the  young,  the 

*  "  Shaw  Guards,"  Company  A,  2d  Battalion  Infantry,  Mass.  V.  M. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  73 

rich  and  the  poor,  the  white  and  the  colored,  of  every 
occupation  and  every  class,  from  the  city  and  from  the 
country,  those  in  high  station  and  those  in  humble  life, 
little  children  and  gray-haired  dames,  all  moved  with  one 
impulse  to  pay  a  last  tribute  to  CHARLES  SUMNER. 

And  who  shall  interpret  the  emotions  of  those  who 
were  privileged  to  stand  there  !  The  history  of  a  genera 
tion  of  the  national  life,  its  days  of  darkness  and  of  woe, 
its  throes  of  agony  and  its  majestic  triumphs,  all  this  was 
epitomized  as  men  looked  on  the  silent  dust  of  the  man 
who  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  had  stood  in  the  advance 
in  the  great  struggle  for  freedom. 

The  silence  was  eloquent,  and  in  that  silence  these 
sacred  memories  and  the  vision  of  his  spotless  career 
were  renewed. 

Monday,  the  sixteenth  of  March,  was  the  funeral  day. 
As  its  hours  passed,  the  vast  crowds  which  assembled 
before  the  State  House  and  streamed  through  its  open 
corridors,  repeated  the  scenes  of  the  day  before.  From 
every  part  of  New  England  tens  of  thousands  had  come 
to  join  the  funeral.  All  business  was  suspended.  On 
the  main  avenues  the  stores  were  draped  in  mourning. 
Flowers  and  vines  wreathing  the  portraits  of  the  Senator, 
flags  festooned  and  craped,  with  other  memorial  emblems, 
were  seen  everywhere.  The  city  was  filled  with  moving 
throngs,  whose  faces  expressed  the  universal  sorrow. 
There  was  a  silent  going  about  the  streets,  an  unaccus 
tomed  hush  in  the  marts  of  trade,  which  was  in  keep 
ing  with  the  solemn  purpose  of  the  day. 

The  tender  interest  that  held  the  great  multitudes  for 
hours  in  the  streets  surrounding  the  Capitol,  the  gentle- 
10 


74  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

ness  upon  every  face,  the  emotion  in  every  heart,  the 
kindliness  and  courtesy  apparent  even  in  the  densest 
crowds,  was  a  tribute  in  itself  both  affecting  and  sig 
nificant. 

The  Senators  and  Representatives  met  in  their  respec 
tive  Halls,  and,  at  two  o'clock,  both  branches  assembled 
in  the  lower  corridors  of  the  East  Wing,  while  the 
Executive  Departments  and  distinguished  delegations 
gathered  in  the  West  corridors  of  the  Capitol. 

At  half-past  two  o'clock  the  coffin  was  borne  from 
the  State  House,  the  solemn  notes  of  the  Dead  March 
awakening  a  response  in  ten  thousand  hearts.  The  pro 
cession  was  formed  and  moved  with  no  audible  sound, 
save  the  measured  tramp  of  feet  and  the  mournful 
strains  of  the  band,  amid  thousands  of  uncovered  spec 
tators,  who  filled  the  sidewalks,  and  the  doors  and 
windows  of  every  house,  through  Beacon  Street  to  King's 
Chapel,  where  the  services  were  held. 

This  venerable  church,  with  its  interesting  historical 
associations,  was  the  family  place  of  worship  of  Mr. 
SUMXEK.  The  beautiful  interior,  its  quaint  and  massive 
architecture,  its  richly  painted  windows,  its  mural  tab 
lets  and  monuments,  were  enriched  by  every  delicate 
device  of  flower,  fern  and  trailing  vine,  to  add  bright 
ness  and  beauty  to  the  solemnities. 

The  stained  windows  were  crowned  and  festooned 
with  smilax,  which  drooped  like  a  delicate  veil  over 
the  tablets  of  the  commandments.  The  reading-desk, 
pulpit  and  galleries  were  appropriately  draped  in  black 
and  white,  with  threads  of  smilax  in  festoons,  with 
pinks  and  rosebuds  intertwined. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  75 

The  pew  formerly  occupied  by  Mr.  SUMNER,  was 
marked  by  a  profusion  of  flowers.  A  loving  and  sym 
pathetic  taste  had  employed  itself  in  the  final  arrange 
ment  of  the  beautiful  offerings  which  had  been  placed 
within  the  chancel  in  affectionate  remembrance. 

For  a  brief  hour  of  prayer,  and  choral  song,  and 
dirge,  and  benediction,  King's  Chapel  was  thus  made 
ready  to  receive  the  mortal  part  of  the  Senator  on  its 
way  to  burial. 

Profound  silence  reigned  within  the  church ;  even  in 
the  streets  surrounding  it  the  din  and  hum  of  traffic 
were  hushed.  The  distant  strains  of  the  funeral  dir^e 

o 

were  heard  softly  rising  upon  the  air,  and  then,  in 
clearer  notes,  the  measured  cadences  of  the  Dead 
March  resounded,  as  the  cortege  approached  the  open 
doors,  deepening  the  solemn  impressions  of  the  hour. 

At  fifteen  minutes  before  three  o'clock  the  procession 
entered  the  church.  His  Excellency  the  Governor,  and 
Staff,  the  members  of  the  Executive  Council,  Heads  of 
Departments  and  Senate,  members  of  the  Society  of  the 
Cincinnati  and  Board  of  Trade,  were  assigned  seats  on 
the  left  of  the  broad  aisle.  The  pews  on  the  left  side 
aisle  were  occupied  by  the  members  of  the  House  of 
Representatives.  The  pews  at  the  head,  on  the  right 
of  the  broad  aisle,  were  allotted  to  intimate  personal 
friends  of  the  deceased  Senator,  the  Vice-President  of 
the  United  States,  the  Massachusetts  delegation  in  Con 
gress,  the  Congressional  Committee,  and  the  Chaplain 
and  Sergeant-at-Arms  of  the  United  States  Senate. 
Behind  them  were  seated  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  Judges  of  the  United  States  Courts,  and  Officers. 


76  CHARLES    SUMKER. 

of  the  Army  and  Navy,  Corporation  and  Overseers  of 
Harvard  College,  members  of  the  Class  of  1830,  the 
Keverend  Clergy,  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  and 
members  of  the  New  York  Chamber  of  Commerce. 
The  pall-bearers  were  seated  at  the  head  of  the  right 
side  aisle,  and  below  them  the  members  of  the  City 
Government.  Places  were  also  assigned  to  the  Trustees 
of  the  Public  Library  and  Art  Museum,  and  the  Cam 
bridge  City  Government. 

It  was  with  stately  simplicity  that  the  Commonwealth 
moved  to  the  burial  of  her  lamented  son. 

THE    BURIAL    SERVICE. 

The  Burial  Service  was  according  to  the  King's 
Chapel  Liturgy,  with  special  additions. 

Rev.  HENRY  W.  FOOTE  officiated.  He  met  the  coffin 
at  the  door  of  the  church  and  read  the 'sentences  :— 

"I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,  saith  the  Lord;  he 
who  believelh  in  me,  though  he  were  dead  }*et  shall  he  live ; 
and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die. 

"  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand 
at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth.  And  though  after  mv  skin 
worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God. 

"  We  brought  nothing  into  this  world  and  it  is  certain 
that  we  can  carry  nothing  out.  The  Lord  gave,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

An  organ  prelude  followed ;  then  Neurnarck's  Choral  : 

"  To  thee,  O  Lord,  I  yield  my  spirit, 

Who  break' st  in  love  this  mortal  chain  ; 
My  life  1  but  from  thee  inherit, 

And  death  becomes  my  chiefest  gain; 
In  thee  I  live,  in  thee  I  die 
Content,  for  thou  art  ever  nig-h." 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  77 

Then  followed  the  Burial  Psalnis,  the  choir  singing 
the  responses  : — 

Lord,  let  me  know  my  end  and  the  number  of  my  days  ; 
that  I  may  know  how  frail  I  am. 

Behold,  thou  hast  made  my  days  as  it  were  a  span  long,  and 
mine  age  is  even  as  nothing  in  respect  to  thee  ;  and  verity  every 
man  living  is  altogether  vanity. 

For  man  walketh  in  a  vain  shadow,  and  disquieteth  himself 
in  vain  ;  he  heapeth  up  riches  and  cannot  tell  who  shall  gather 
them. 

And  now,  Lord,  what  is  my  hope  ?  Truly  my  hope  is  even  in 
thee. 

I  became  dumb  and  opened  not  my  mouth ;  for  it  was  thy 
doing. 

But  take  thy  plague  away  from  me ;  for  I  am  consumed  by 
the  blow  of  thy  heavy  hand. 

When  thou  with  rebukes  dost  chasten  man  for  sin,  thou 
makest  his  beauty  to  consume  away,  like  as  it  were  a  moth 
fretting  a  garment ;  surely  every  man  is  vanity. 

Hear  my  prayer,  O  Lord,  and  with  thine  ears  consider  my 
calling  ;  hold  not  thy  peace  at  my  tears. 

For  I  am  a  stranger  with  thee,  and  a  sojourner,  as  all  my 
fathers  were. 

Oh  spare  me  a  little,  that  I  may  recover  my  strength,  before 
I  go  hence,  and  be  no  more  seen. 

Lord,  thou  hast  been  our  refuge  from  one  generation  to 
another. 

Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting  to  ever 
lasting,  thou  art  God. 

Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction ;  and  sayest,  Return,  ye 
children  of  men. 

For  a  thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but  as  yesterday,  when 
it  is  past,  or  a  watch  in  the  night. 

Thou  earliest  them  away  as  with  a  flood  ;  they  are  even  as  a 
sleep  ;  and  fade  away  suddenly  like  the  grass. 


78    •  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

In  the  morning  it  is  green,  and  groweth  up  ;  but  in  the 
evening  it  is  cut  down,  dried  up,  and  withered. 

The  da}'S  of  our  age  are  threescore  years  and  ten ;  and 
though  men  be  so  strong  that  they  come  to  fourscore  years,  yet 
is  their  strength  then  but  labor  and  sorrow  ;  so  soon  passeth  it 
away,  and  we  are  gone. 

So  teach  us  to  number  our  days  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts 
unto  wisdom.  Amen. 

Then  followed  these  Selections  from  Scripture  : — 

The  burden  of  the  valley  of  vision.  What  aileth  thee  now, 
that  thou  art  wholly  gone  up  to  the  housetops  ?  Thou  that  art 
full  of  stirs,  a  tumultuous  city. 

Help,  Lord !  for  the  faithful  fail  from  among  the  children  of 
men. 

All  ye  that  are  about  him,  bemoan  him  ;  all  ye  that  know  his 
name,  sa}r,  how  is  the  strong  staff  broken,  and  the  beautiful  rod  ! 

To  the  counsellors  of  peace  is  joy.  But  His  word  was  in 
mine  heart  as  a  burning  fire  shut  up  in  my  bones,  and  I  was 
weary  with  forbearing,  and  I  would  not  stay.  For  I  heard  the 
defaming  of  many,  fear  on  every  side.  Report,  say  they,  and 
we  will  report  it.  All  my  familiars  watch  for  my  halting, 
sa}'ing,  Peradventure  he  will  be  enticed,  and  "we  shall  prevail 
against  him,  and  we  shall  take  our  revenge  on  him.  .  . 
But,  O  Lord  of  hosts,  that  triest  the  righteous,  .  .  .  unto 
thee  have  I  opened  my  cause. 

Righteousness  exalteth  a  nation  ;  but  sin  is  a  reproach  to  any 
people. 

Speak  unto  the  children  of  Israel  .  .  .  and  proclaim 
liberty  throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the  inhabitants  thereof. 
Is  not  this  the  fast  that  I  have  chosen?  to  loose  the  bands  of 
wickedness,  to  undo  the  heavy  burdens  and  to  let  the  oppressed 
go  free,  and  that  ye  break  every  yoke?  As  free,  and  not  using 
your  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness,  but  as  the  servants  of 
God. 

The  people  that  sat  in  darkness  have  seen  a  great  light ;  they 
that  dwell  in  the  land  of  the  shadow  of  death,  upon  them  hath 
the  light  shined. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  79 

When  I  went  out  to  the  gate  through  the  city  the  j'oung  men 
saw  me,  and  hid  themselves,  and  the  aged  arose  and  stood  up. 
The  princes  refrained  talking,  and  laid  their  hands  on  their 
mouth.  Because  I  delivered  the  poor  that  cried,  and  the  father 
less,  and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him,  the  blessing  of  him 
that  was  ready  to  perish  came  upon  me.  I  put  on  righteousness 
and  it  clothed  me.  I  was  a  father  to  the  poor ;  and  the  cause 
which  I  knew  not  I  searched  out.  ~My  gloiy  was  fresh  in  me  ; 
and  my  bow  was  renewed  in  my  hand.  Unto  me  men  gave  ear, 
and  waited,  and  kept  silence  at  my  counsel. 

Judge  me,  O  Lord,  for  I  have  walked  in  mine  integrity.  I 
have  not  sat  with  vain  persons,  neither  will  I  go  in  with  dis 
semblers.  I  have  hated  the  congregation  of  evil  doers  ;  and 
will  not  sit  with  the  wicked.  I  will  wash  mine  hands  in  inno- 
cenc3T.  Gather  not  my  soul  with  sinners,  nor  my  life  with 
bloody  men  ;  in  whose  hands  is  mischief,  and  their  right  hand 
is  full  of  bribes.  But  as  for  me,  I  will  walk  in  mine  integrity  ; 
redeem  me  and  be  merciful  unto  me. 

Who  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord,  or  who  shall 
stand  in  his  holy  place?  He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure 
heart ;  who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto  vanity  nor  sworn 
deceitfullv.  He  shall  receive  the  blessing  from  the  Lord,  and 
righteousness  from  the  God  of  his  salvation. 

And  now,  behold,  I  am  gray-headed  .  .  .  and  I  have 
walked  before  3^011  from  my  childhood  unto  this  day.  Behold, 
here  I  am ;  witness  against  me  before  the  Lord,  and  before  his 
anointed  ;  whose  ox  have  I  taken  ?  or  whose  ass  have  I  taken  ?  or 
whom  have  I  defrauded  ?  or  whom  have  I  oppressed  ?  or  of  whose 
hand  have  I  received  any  bribe  to  blind  mine  e3"es  therewith? 

But  the  souls  of  the  righteous  are  in  the  hand  of  God,  and 
there  shall  no  torment  touch  them.  There  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling  and  the  weary  are  at  rest. 

For  the  memorial  of  virtue  is  immortal ;  because  it  is  known 
with  God  and  with  men.  When  it  is  present  men  take  example 
at  it,  and  when  it  is  gone  they  desire  it ;  it  weareth  a  crown 
and  triumpheth  forever,  having  gotten  the  victory,  striving  for 
undefiled  rewards. 

Their  bodies  are  buried  in  peace  ;  but  their  name  liveth  for 
ever  more. 


80  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

He  judged  the  cause  of  the  poor  and  need}T ;  then  it  was 
well  with  him.  Was  not  this  to  know  me  ?  saith  the  Lord. 

What  shall  one  then  answer  the  messengers  of  the  nation? 
That  the  Lord  hath  founded  Zion,  and  the  poor  of  his  people 
shall  trust  in  it. 

He  that  had  received  five  talents  came  and  brought  other  five 
talents,  saying,  Lord,  thou  deliverest  unto  me  five  talents ; 
behold,  I  have  gained  beside  them  five  talents  more.  His  lord 
said  unto  him,  Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant ;  thou 
hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over 
man}T  things  ;  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  tlry  lord. 

Finall}r,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever 
things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things 
are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are 
of  good  report ;  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any 
praise,  think  on  these  things. 

Now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become  the  first  fruits 
of  those  who  slept.  For  since  by  man  came  death,  by  man 
came  also  the  resurrection  of  the  dead. 

For  as  in  Adam  all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made 
alive. 

There  is  one  glory  of  the  sun,  and  another  glory  of  the  moon, 
and  another  glory  of  the  stars  ;  for  one  star  differeth  from 
another  star  in  glory.  So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead. 
It  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  is  raised  in  incorruption  ;  it  is  sown 
in  dishonor,  it  is  raised  in  glory  ;  it  is  sown  in  weakness,  it  is 
raised  in  power ;  it  is  sown  a  natural  bod}T,  it  is  raised  a  spir 
itual  body. 

Now,  this  I  say,  brethren,  that  flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit 
the  kingdom  of  God  ;  neither  doth  corruption  inherit  incorrup 
tion.  For  this  corruptible  must  put  on  incorruption,  and  this 
mortal  must  put  on  immortality.  So  wrhen  this  corruptible 
shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  have  put 
on  immortalit}r,  then  shall  be  brought  to  pass  the  saying  that  is 
written,  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory.  O  death,  where  is 
thy  sting?  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?  The  sting  of  death 
is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law ;  but  thanks  be  to 
God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  81 

The  following  Anthem  was  then  sung  :  — 

"•  Happy  and  blessed  are  they  who  have  endured !  For 
though  the  body  dies,  the  soul  shall  live  forever." 

At  the  close  of  the  Anthem  the  Burial  Service  pro 
ceeded  : — 

Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  hath  but  a  short  time  to  live, 
and  is  full  of  misery.  He  cometh  up,  and  is  cut  down  like  a 
flower ;  he  fleeth  as  it  were  a  shadow,  and  never  continueth  in 
one  stay. 

In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death ;  of  whom  may  we  seek 
for  succor,  but  of  thee,  O  Lord,  who  for  our  sins  art  justly  dis 
pleased  ? 

Yet,  O  Lord  God  most  hoty,  O  Lord  most  mighty,  O  holy 
and  most  merciful  Father,  deliver  us  not  unto  the  bitter  pains 
of  eternal  death ! 

Thou  knowest,  Lord,  the  secrets  of  our  hearts  ;  shut  not  thy 
merciful  ears  to  our  prayers  ;  but  spare  us,  Lord  most  holy,  O 
God  most  mighty,  O  holy  and  merciful  Father,  thou  most  worthy 
Judge  Eternal,  suffer  us  not  at  our  last  hour,  for  any  pains  of 
death,  to  fall  from  thee. 

Forasmuch  as  it  hath  pleased  Almighty  God  to  take  unto 
himself  the  soul  of  our  brother,  here  departed,  we  therefore 
commit  his  body  to  the  ground ;  earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes, 
dust  to  dust ;  in  sure  and  certain  hope  of  the  resurrection  to 
eternal  life,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  when  the  earth  and 
the  sea  shall  give  up  their  dead,  and  the  corruptible  bodies  of 
those  who  sleep  in  Jesus  shall  be  changed  and  made  like  unto 
his  glorious  body,  according  to  the  mighty  working  whereby  he 
is  able  to  subdue  all  things  to  himself. 

Then  the  following  Choral  by  Gastorius  was  sung : — 

"  Leave  God  to  order  all  thy  ways, 
And  hope  in  him,  whate'er  betide ; 
Thou'lt  lind  him  in  the  evil  days 
Thy  all-sufficient  strength  and  guide. 
Who  trusts  in  God's  unchanging  love 
Builds  on  the  rock  that  nought  can  move 
11 


82  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

/ 

"  He  knows  when  joyful  hours  are  best, 
He  sends  them  as  he  sees  it  meet ; 
When  thou  hast  borne  the  fiery  test, 
And  art  made  free  from  all  deceit, 
He  comes  to  thee  all  unaware, 
And  makes  thee  own  his  loving  care. 

"  Sing,  pray,  and  swerve  not  from  his  ways, 
But  do  thine  own  part  faithfully, 
Trust  his  rich  promises  of  grace, 
So  shall  they  be  fulfilled  in  thee ; 
God  never  yet  forsook  at  need 
The  soul  that  trusted  him  indeed." 


Then  followed  the  Collect  and  the  special  Prayer  : — 

Almighty  God,  with  whom  do  live  the  spirits  of  those  who 
depart  hence  in  the  Lord ;  and  with  whom  the  souls  of  the 
faithful,  after  they  are  delivered  from  the  burthen  of  the  flesh, 
are  in  joy  and  felicity,  we  give  thee  hearty  thanks  for  the  good 
examples  of  all  those  thy  servants  who,  having  finished  their 
course  in  faith,  do  now  rest  from  their  labors.  And  we  beseech 
thee  that  we,  with  all  those  who  are  departed  in  the  true  faith 
of  thy  holy  name,  ma}~  have  our  perfect  consummation  and  bliss 
in  thy  heavenly  and  everlasting  glory,  through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  Amen. 

O  Almighty  and  ever-living  God,  we  fly  to  thee  as  our  eternal 
refuge ;  we  rest  ourselves  upon  thee,  the  Rock  of  Ages. 
Blessed  be  thy  holy  name  for  the  assurance  of  eternal  life  which 
thou  hast  given  us  by  thy  beloved  Son ;  blessed  be  thy  holy 
name  for  the  faith  which  we  cherish  that  this  corruptible  shall 
put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal,  immortality. 

Let  this  immortal  hope  and  the  comforts  of  thy  gracious 
Spirit  sustain  in  this  their  bereavement  the  kindred  and  friends 
of  our  departed  brother,  those  who  are  near  and  those  who  are 
far  away.  May  the  sorrow  of  the  land  bear  up  their  hearts 
with  precious  consolations,  and  the  land's  sorrow  be  full  of 
consecration  for  this  great  people. 

Bless  our  beloved  country,  and  make  its  rulers  to  rule  over  us 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  83 

for  good.  Teach  its  senators  wisdom,  and  give  to  all  its  people 
a  spirit  of  purer  patriotism,  inspired  by  thy  faith  and  fear. 
May  we  trust  not  in  any  arm  of  flesh,  but  in  the  living  God. 
Raise  up  wise  and  faithful  men  to  guide  us  in  the  place  of  thy 
servant  whom  thou  hast  called  to  thy  nearer  service  from  the 
single-hearted  and  loyal  discharge  of  his  great  office ;  and,  O 
God,  teach  us  in  our  great  loss  the  full  lessons  of  his  eminent 
and  faithful  life,  that  our  gratitude  may  be  attested  by  our  dedi 
cation  of  ourselves  to  thy  truth  and  thy  law. 

In  this  community,  whose  son  he  was,  we  thank  thee  for  every 
great  gift  in  him,  of  example  in  constancy  and  courage  for  the 
right,  and  scorn  of  all  that  was  mean  and  low,  and  incorruptible 
integrity, — for  his  pleading  the  cause  of  the  down-trodden  and 
his  hearing  the  sighing  of  the  sorrowful,  his  zeal  for  justice  and 
truth,  for  every  wise  word  and  brave  and  honest  deed.  And 
chiefly  do  we  thank  thee  for  the  lofty  purpose  which  inspired  his 
service  of  his  conntiy,  to  give  to  her  the  best  lie  had  to  give. 
Sanctify  these  great  memories  to  us,  and  make  them  fruitful  in 
high  thinking,  and  faithful  living,  to  the  people  of  this  land. 

Visit  this  mourning  Commonwealth,  whose  heart  is  melted  in 
a  common  sorrow,  with  thy  Spirit  of  grace,  to  renew  in  us  the 
best  example  of  loyalty  to  truth  and  duty  and  thee.  Purge  us 
from  all  self-seeking  counsels.  Teach  us  to  honor  only  that 
which  is  worth}'  of  honor,  and  to  trust  only  them  who  put  their 
trust  in  thee. 

Be  thou,  O  God,  our  refuge  and  our  consolation  and  our  sure 
trust.  The  more  we  are  brought  to  perceive  that  things  seen 
are  temporal,  so  much  the  more  may  we  find  that  the  things 
which  are  unseen  are  eternal ;  that  thou  art  faithful,  and  that 
Christ  is  worthy,  and  that  heaven  and  not  earth  is  our  home. 
May  we  embrace  thy  promises  and  be  thankful ;  may  we  know 
that  thou  art  God,  and  be  still.  And  grant,  we  beseech  thee,  O 
Holy  Father  and  Eternal  Judge,  that  we  may  all  live  mindful  of 
our  duty  and  our  trust,  and  waiting  on  thy  will ;  that,  when  we 
have  served  thee  in  our  generations,  we  may  be  gathered  unto 
our  fathers,  having  the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience,  and  in 
the  hope  that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  things  present,  nor 
things  to  come,  will  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  Amen. 


84:  CHARLES    SUMNEE. 

The  following  hymn  by  Montgomery  was  then  sung  by 
the  congregation, — 

"  Servant  of  God,  well  done  ! 

Rest  from  thy  loved  employ  ; 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won, 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy. 

"  The  voice  at  midnight  came, 

lie  started  up  to  hear  ; 
A  mortal  arrow  pierced  his  frame, — 
He  fell,  but  felt  no  fear. 

"  Tranquil  amidst  alarms, 

It  found  him  on  the  field, 
A  veteran,  slumbering  on  his  arms, 
Beneath  his  red-cross  shield. 

"  The  pains  of  death  are  past ; 

Labor  and  sorrow  cease  ; 
And,  life's  long  warfare  closed  at  last, 
His  soul  is  found  in  peace." 

The  Benediction  followed  : — 

u  The  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  love  of  God, 
and  the  fellowship  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  with  us  all  ever 
more."  Amen. 

And    the    service    was    concluded    with    Mendelssohn's 
"Funeral  March"  and  Pergolesi's  "Stabat  Mater." 

As  the  organ  notes  softly  interpreted  the  great  theme, 
the  coffin  was  borne  to  the  hearse,  and  the  imposing 
procession  moved  on  its  way. 

During  the  funeral  service  a  number  of  organizations 
of  colored  men  took  positions  on  Beacon  Street,  in  open 
order,  standing  uncovered,  as  the  cortege  moved  through 
the  long  and  silent  lines. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  85 


THE    PROCESSION. 

The  Procession  was  formed  as  follows : 

MOUNTED  STATE  POLICE. 

BAND. 

SERGEANT-AT-ARMS. 

LEGISLATIVE  COMMITTEE  OF  ARRANGEMENTS. 
THE  OFFICIATING  CLERGYMAN. 

THE   PALL-BEARERS. 
MOUNTED  ESCORT.  THE  HEARSE.  MOUNTED  ESCORT. 

MOURNERS. 

THE    VICE-PRESIDENT. 

MASSACHUSETTS  CONGRESSIONAL  DELEGATION. 

COMMITTEE  OF  CONGRESS. 
CHAPLAIN  AND  SERGEANT-AT-ARMS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  SENATE. 

His  EXCELLENCY  THE  GOVERNOR  AND  STAFF. 
His  HONOR  THE  LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR,  AND  THE  COUNCIL. 

HEADS  OF  DEPARTMENTS. 
PRESIDENT  OF  THE  SENATE,  SENATORS  AND  OFFICERS. 

SPEAKER  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  REPRESENTATIVES  AND 

OFFICERS. 

THE  MAYOR  or  BOSTON,  AND  THE  CITY  COUNCIL. 
SHERIFF  OF  SUFFOLK  COUNTY. 

THE  CHIEF  JUSTICE  AND  THE  ASSOCIATE  JUSTICES  OF  THE  SUPREME 
JUDICIAL  COURT. 

JUDGES   OF   THE  UNITED   STATES   COURTS. 

OFFICERS  OF  THE  ARMY  AND  NAVY. 
PRESIDENT  AND  FELLOWS  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE. 
OVERSEERS  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE. 

CLASS  OF  1830. 

THE  REVEREND  CLERGY. 

OFFICERS  OF  THE  MASSACHUSETTS  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY. 

STANDING  COMMITTEE  OF  THE  MASSACHUSETTS  SOCIETY  OF  THE 
CINCINNATI. 


86  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  BOSTON  BOARD  OF  TRADE. 

DELEGATION  FROM  THE  XEW  YORK  CHAMBER  OF  COMMERCE. 

TRUSTEES  OF  THE  BOSTON  PUBLIC  LIBRARY. 

TRUSTEES  OF  THE  ART  MUSEUM. 
EEPRESENTATIVES    OF    THE    CAMBRIDGE    CITY    GOVERNMENT. 

ORGANIZATIONS  or  COLORED  CITIZENS. 
COLORED  CITIZENS  TO  THE  NUMBER  OF  Two  THOUSAND, 

(Including  Fraternal  and  Hancock  Associations  of  Boston,  and  Post  134,  of  the  "  Grand  Army 

of  the  Republic.") 

DELEGATIONS  OF  CITIZENS  FROM  DEDIIAM,  PROVIDENCE  AND 
WORCESTER. 

All  the  way  from  King's  Chapel  to  Mount  Auburn, 
a  distance  of  at  least  five  miles,  the  streets  were  lined 
with  expectant  but  hushed  and  reverent  crowds.  This 
imposing  demonstration  has  had  but  one  parallel  in  our 
history,  and  that  was  the  day  set  apart  by  proclamation 
for  the  contemplation  of  the  virtues  and  sorrow  for  the 
death  of  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.  Then  "fears  were  in  the 
way,  and  the  keepers  of  the  house  trembled,"  and  strong 
men  wept; — it  was  the  supreme  hour  of  the  nation. 
But  this  was  the  mourning  of  a  State  for  her  Senator, 
who,  after  matchless  fidelity,  had  fallen  at  his  post;  and 
the  startled  community  were  uniting  in  a  great  sympathy 
and  a  tender  yearning  to  do  him  honor. 

It  was  nearly  six  o'clock  when  the  long  procession 
passed  under  the  massive  gateway  of  Mount  Auburn,  and 
began  its  winding  march  through  Central  and  Walnut 
Avenues  and  Arethusa  Path,  to  the  grave.  The  coffin 
was  covered  with  beautiful  flowers,  which  were  buried 
with  it.  The  officiating  clergyman,  the  pall-bearers,  and 
other  gentlemen  at  the  head  of  the  procession,  took 
position  about  the  grave,  Mr.  SUMNER'S  nearest  friends 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  87 

and  the  Massachusetts  Delegation  in  Congress  standing 
at  its  foot  and  a  little  at  the  left,  with  the  Committee 
of  the  Legislature  by  their  side  at  the  right.  At  its 
head,  and  just  behind  the  minister,  were  the  few 
surviving  members  of  Mr.  SUMNER'S  class  in  Harvard 
College ;  while  on  the  rising  slope  above  and  north  of 
the  grave,  stood  the  Congressional  Committee,  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Legislature,  and  invited  guests.  Behind, 
clustering  on  every  hillock,  and  climbing  to  the  very 
summit  of  the  hill  where  the  Tower  stands,  was  the 
vast  crowd  of  spectators,  numbering  many  thousands, 
who  waited  in  silence  the  last  rites  of  sepulture. 

THE    BURIAL. 

As  the  body  was  deposited  at  the  side  of  the  grave 
a  chorus  of  male  voices,  selected  from  the  Apollo  Club, 
sang  the  first  eight  lines  of  the  Ode  of  Horace  : — 

"  Integer  vitse  scelerisque  purus 
.Non  eget  Mauris  jaculis  neque  arcu 
Nee  venenatis  gravida  sagittis, 

Fusee,  pharetra, 
Sive  per  Syrtes  iter  asstuosas 
Sive  facturus  per  inhospitalem 
Caucasum  vel  qu.se  loca  fabulosus 

Lambit  Hydaspes." 

While  the  solemn  music  was  rising,  two  daughters  of  Dr. 
Samuel  G.  Howe,  the  only  persons  of  their  sex  within 
the  enclosure,  stepped  forward  in  behalf  of  Mrs.  Hastings 
of  San  Francisco,  the  absent  sister  of  Mr.  SUMNER,  and 
placed  upon  the  coffin,  already  covered  with  flowers  of 
rarest  beauty,  one  a  cross  and  the  other  a  wreath. 


88  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

Hardly  had  the  sounds  of  the  singers'  voices  died 
away  upon  the  air,  when  the  minister,  speaking  so  that 
he  could  be  heard  by  all  around,  said : — 

"  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven  saj'ing  unto  me,  Write,  From 
henceforth  blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord :  even  so 
saith  the  Spirit ;  for  they  rest  from  their  labors  and  their 
works  do  follow  them." 

The  Lord's  Prayer  was  afterwards  said  by  the  min 
ister  and  mourners,  and  while  the  remains  were  slowly 
lowered  into  their  final  resting-place,  the  choir  sang 
Dr.  Hedge's  version  of  Luther's  Choral : — 


"  EIN   FESTE   BURG   1ST  UNSER   GOTT." 

"  A  mighty  fortress  is  our  God, 

A  bulwark  never  failing; 
Our  helper  he  amid  the  flood 

Of  mortal  ills  prevailing ; 
For  still  our  ancient  foe 
Doth  seek  to  work  us  woe, 
His  craft  and  power  are  great, 
And,  armed  with  cruel  hate, 

On  earth  is  not  his  equal. 

"  Did  we  in  our  strength  confide, 
Our  striving  would  be  losing, — 

Were  not  the  right  man  on  our  side, 
The  man  of  God's  own  choosing. 

Dost  ask  who  that  may  be? 

Christ  Jesus,  it  is  he, 

Lord  Sabbaoth  his  name, 

From  age  to  age  the  same, 
And  he  must  win  the  battle. 

"  The  word  above  all  earthly  powers, — 

No  thanks  to  them— abideth, 
The  spirit  and  the  gifts  are  ours 
Through  Him  who  with  us  sideth. 


THE    OBSEQUIES.  89 

Let  goods  and  kindred  go, 
This  mortal  life  also ; 
The  body  they  may  kill, — 
God's  truth  abideth  still, 
His  kingdom  is  forever." 

During  this  beautiful  service,  the  chorus  chanting  in 
solemn  monotones  the  responsive  "Amens,"  the  scene 
was  deeply  impressive. 

The  sky  had  taken  on  a  subdued  gray  tinge,  through 
which  the  light  of  the  setting  sun  shone  but  faintly  over 
the  city  of  the  dead.  The  air  was  silent,  the  vast  assem 
bly  was  hushed,  and  in  the  pauses  of  the  service,  from 
Boston — which  lay  plainly  in  sight  towards  the  sea — and 
Cambridge,  and  Brookline,  and  all  the  neighboring 
towns,  came  slowly  and  faintly  the  vibrations  of  the 
tolling  bells. 

After  a  few  moments  the  benediction  was  pronounced. 

Thus  with  the  mighty  mourning  of  a  sovereign  State, 
the  body  was  left  with  its  kindred  dust  and  to  the  vigils 
of  the  silent  stars. 


"  Revive  again  thou  summer  rain 

The  broken  turf  upon  his  bed ! 
Breathe,  summer  wind,  thy  tenderest  strain 
Of  low,  sweet  music  overhead !" 


12 


COMMEMOEATIYE  OBSERVANCES. 


COMMEMOEATIYE    OBSERVANCES, 


TUESDAY,  the  ninth  of  June,  having  been  appointed 
for  the  delivery  of  the  Eulogy,  on  that  day  a  procession 
was  formed  in  Doric  Hall,  and  marched  from  the  State 
House  to  the  Music  Hall,  in  the  following  order : — 

STATE  POLICE. 

BAND. 

THE  SERGEANT-AT-ARMS. 
THE  COMMITTEE  OF  ARRANGEMENTS. 

THE   GOVERNOR  AND  STAFF. 

THE  LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR,  AND  THE  COUNCIL. 

HEADS  OF  DEPARTMENTS. 

THE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  SENATE,  SENATORS,  THEIR  CHAPLAIN, 
AND  CLERK. 

THE  SPEAKER  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  EEPRESENTATIVES,  REPRESENTATIVES, 
THEIR  CHAPLAIN  AND  CLERK. 

Ex-GOVERNORS  AND  LIEUTENANT-GOVERNORS  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 

DISTINGUISHED  GUESTS. 

GOVERNORS  OF  OTHER  STATES. 

THE   SHERIFF  OF   SUFFOLK  COUNTY. 

THE  CHIEF  JUSTICE  AND  ASSOCIATE  JUSTICES  OF  THE  SUPREME 
JUDICIAL  COURT. 

JUDGES  OF  UNITED  STATES  COURTS 

MEMBERS  OF  CONGRESS. 

THE  COLLECTOR  OF  BOSTON. 

INVITED  GUESTS. 


94:  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

The  Committee  endeavored  to  make  the  services  on 
the  occasion  worthy  of  the  State,  and  a  fitting  tribute 
to  the  memory  of  her  great  Senator. 

The  Music  Hall  was  decorated  with  care.  The  black 
and  white  hangings,  the  vines  and  flowers,  the  droop 
ing  laurel  wreaths,  and  the  organ  veiled  in  a  delicate 
drapery  of  smilax,  gave  grace  and  beauty  to  the 
spacious  interior.  A  life-size  portrait  of  Mr.  SUMKEK, 
of  striking  excellence,  recalled  to  the  great  assemblage 
his  commanding  and  attractive  presence. 

At  one  o'clock,  the  appointed  hour,  the  service  began 
with  the  Organ  Voluntary,  followed  by  a  Chant  by  the 
Temple  Quartette  of  the  words  : — 

"Remember  now  ihy  Creator  in  the  dajs  of  thy  }'outh,  while 
the  evil  days  come  not,  nor  the  }Tears  draw  nigh,  when  thou 
shalt  say,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them  ; 

"  While  the  sun,  or  the  light,  or  the  moon,  or  the  stars,  be 
not  darkened,  nor  the  clouds  return  after  the  rain  : 

"  In  the  day  when  the  keepers  of  the  house  shall  tremble, 
and  the  strong  men  shall  bow  themselves,  and  the  grinders 
cease  because  they  are  few,  and  those  that  look  out  of  the  win 
dows  be  darkened, 

"  And  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets,  when  the  sound 
of  the  grinding  is  low,  and  he  shall  rise  up  at  the  voice  of  the 
bird,  and  all  the  daughters  of  music  shall  be  brought  low  ; 

"Also  when  they  shall  be  afraid  of  that  which  is  high,  and 
fears  shall  be  in  the  way,  and  the  almond  tree  shall  flourish, 
and  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a  burden,  and  desire  shall  fail : 
because  man  goeth  to  his  long  home,  and  the  mourners  go  about 
the  streets  : 

"  Or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the  golden  bowl  be 
broken,  or  the  pitcher  be  broken  at  the  fountain,  or  the  wheel 
broken  at  the  cistern. 

"  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was  :  and  the 
spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave  it." 


COMMEMORATIVE    OBSERVANCES.  95 

Prayer  was  then  offered  by  Rev.  JAMES  FREEMAN 
CLARKE,  in  the  following  words  : — 

Who  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the  Lord  ;  and  who  shall 
stand  in  his  holy  place  ?  He  that  hath  clean  hands  and  a  pure 
heart,  who  hath  not  lifted  up  his  soul  unto  vanity,  nor  sworn 
deceitfully. 

O  thou  most  righteous  God,  who  lovest  righteousness  !  we, 
the  people  of  this  Commonwealth,  assemble  this  clay  by  our 
lawmakers  and  magistrates,  to  commemorate  with  glad  and 
grateful  words  the  life  of  a  good  man,  who  has  finished  the  work 
given  him  to  do. 

From  thee  we  begin,  Infinite  Friend,  from  whom  cometh  ever}r 
good  gift,  recognizing  as  among  thy  best  gifts  to  us  the  good 
and  the  wise,  who  in  the  time  of  our  need  have  stood  up  as  a 
fire,  and  whose  words  have  burned  as  a  lamp — sending  its  beams 
far  into  the  night  and  storm. 

Blessed  be  thy  name  that  thou  didst  build  this  State  on  the 
foundation  of  just  and  wise  men,  Jesus  Christ  himself  being  its 
chief  corner-stone  ;  and  that,  from  time  to  time,  whenever  new 
occasions  have  taught  new  duties,  there  have  never  been  wanting, 
in  thy  good  Providence,  men  of  self-forgetting  integrit}^,  who 
have  led  us  through  every  wilderness,  and  brought  us  in  safety 
to  the  promised  land. 

And  we  thank  thee  to-day  that,  when  our  iniquities  separated 
between  us  and  God,  and  our  hands  were  defiled  with  blood ; 
when  we  enslaved  our  brother  man  and  ground  the  faces  of  the 
poor ;  when  the  prophets  prophesied  falsely,  and  the  people 
loved  to  have  it  so ;  that  then  thou  didst  raise  up  among  us 
those  who  proclaimed  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  taught  us  to 
loose  the  bands  of  wickedness,  and  let  the  oppressed  go  free, 
and  to  break  every  yoke. 

And,  among  these,  we  thank  thee  for  our  brother,  who  was 
called  to  stand  so  man}'  }-ears  face  to  face  with  the  advocates  of 
tyramry  and  injustice.  Thou  didst  make  his  face  strong  against 
their  faces,  and  his  forehead  strong  against  their  foreheads  ;  and 
he  was  not  dismayed  because  of  their  looks,  though  they  were  a 
rebellious  house. 

He  put  on  justice,  and  it  clothed  him.  Righteousness  was 
the  girdle  of  his  loins,  and  faithfulness  the  girdle  of  his  reins. 


96  CHARLES   SUMXEK. 

Thou  didst  endow  him  richly  with  elevation  of  moral  sentiment, 
combined  with  breadth  of  intellectual  culture ;  and  thou  didst 
help  him  in  the  lingering  conflict,  through  weary  day  and  weary 
year,  so  that  he  did  not  heed  the  stinging  bolts  of  scorn,  or  the 
words  of  fools  who  accounted  his  life  madness,  but  fought  the 
good  fight  to  the  end ;  approving  himself  in  all  things  a  true 
servant  of  God,  in  much  patience,  in  afflictions,  in  distresses,  in 
stripes,  in  tumults  ;  by  pureness,  by  knowledge,  by  long-suffer 
ing,  by  kindness,  by  love  unfeigned,  by  the  word  of  truth,  by 
the  armor  of  righteousness  on  the  right  hand  and  the  left, 
by  honor  and  dishonor,  by  evil  report  and  good  report ;  as  a 
deceiver  and  yet  true ;  as  unknown  and  yet  well-known ;  as 
dying,  and  behold !  he  lived ;  as  chastened,  and  not  killed ;  as 
poor,  but  making  men  rich ;  as  sorrowful,  and  yet  always 
rejoicing. 

We  thank  thee  that  he  was  enabled  to  outlive  all  calumny,  all 
censure,  all  evil  report ;  and  that  wrhen  he  died  the  great  heart 
of  the  nation,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  testified  to  his  worth  by  a 
universal  sorrow,  and  has  thus  shown  that  the  memorial  of 
virtue  is  immortal.  We  thank  thee  that  his  own  dear  State, 
which  for  a  moment  misunderstood  him,  once  again  uttered, 
while  he  could  still  hear  her  voice,  her  familiar  blessing,  and 
sa}7,  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant ! 

And  now,  God  save  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts! 
May  it  be  saved  in  the  present  and  future,  as  it  has  been  saved 
in  the  past !  May  it  be  saved  from  the  cunning  of  selfish 
politicians,  who  care  only  for  personal  triumph,  not  for  the  good 
of  the  State  ;  from  those  who  make  party  success  the  highest 
good  ;  from  the  corruptions  of  avarice  and  ambition  !  May  not 
the  labors  be  wasted  of  the  wise  and  generous  souls  who  have 
illustrated  its  noble  history !  May  not  their  toils  and  sorrows 
be  in  vain  !  May  not  the  blood  shed  on  a  hundred  battle-fields 
for  freedom  and  union  be  shed  in  vain  ! 

But,  seeing  that  we  are  compassed  about  with  so  great  a 
cloud  of  witnesses,  may  we  lay  aside  every  wreight ;  and  be 
followers  of  them  who  through  faith  and  patience  have  inherited 
the  promises. 


COMMEMORATIVE  OBSERVANCES.       97 

Miss  CLAEA  LOUISE  KELLOGG  then  rendered,  from 
Handel's  Oratorio  of  the  Messiah,  the  Aria : — 

"  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  He  shall  stand 
at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth : 

"  And  though  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall 
I  see  God." 

"  But  now  is  Christ  risen  from^the  dead,  and  become  the  first 
fruits  of  them  that  slept." 

The  following  poem,  written  for  the  occasion,  by  JOHN 
GKEENLEAF  WHITTIER,  was  then  read  by  Prof.  J.  W. 
CHURCHILL  : — 

SUMNER. 

"I  AM  not  one  who  has  disgraced  beauty  of  sentiment  by  deformity  of 
conduct,  or  the  maxims  of  a  freeman  by  the  actions  of  a  slave ;  but,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  I  have  kept  my  life  unsullied."— Milton's  Defence  of  the  People 
of  England. 

O  MOTHER  STATE  ! — the  winds  of  March 
Blew  chill  o'er  Auburn's  Field  of  God, 

Where,  slow,  beneath  a  leaden -arch 
Of  sky,  thy  mourning  children  trod. 

And  now,  with  all  thy  woods  in  leaf, 
Thy  fields  in  flower,  beside  thy  dead 

Thou  sittest,  in  thy  robes  of  grief, 
A  Rachel  yet  uncomforted  ! 

And  once  again  the  organ  swells, 
Once  more  the  flag  is  half-way  hung, 

And  yet  again  the  mournful  bells 
In  all  thy  steeple-towers  are  rung. 

And  I,  obedient  to  thy  will, 

Have  come  a  simple  wreath  to  laj^, 

Superfluous,  on  a  grave  that  still 
Is  sweet  with  all  the  flowers  of  May. 
13 


98  CHARLES    SUMBTER. 

I  take,  with  awe,  the  task  assigned ; 

It  ma}r  be  that  my  friend  might  miss, 
In  his  new  sphere  of  heart  and  mind, 

Some  token  from  my  hand  in  this. 

~By  many  a  tender  memoiy  moved, 
Along  the  past  my  thought  I  send ; 

The  record  of  the  cause  he  loved 
Is  the  best  record  of  its  friend. 

No  trumpet  sounded  in  his  ear, 

He  saw  not  Sinai's  cloud  and  flame, 

But  never  yet  to  Hebrew  seer 
A  clearer  voice  of  duty  came. 

God  said  :  "  Break  thou  these  yokes  ;  undo 
These  heavy  burdens.     I  ordain 

A  work  to  last  thy  whole  life  through, 
A  ministry  of  strife  and  pain. 

"  Forego  thy  dreams  of  lettered  ease, 
Put  thou  the  scholar's  promise  by, 
The  rights  of  man  are  more  than  these." 
He  heard,  and  answered  :  "  Here  am  I !  " 

He  set  his  face  against  the  blast, 
His  feet  against  the  flinty  shard, 

Till  the  hard  service  grew,  at  last, 
Its  own  exceeding  great  reward. 

Lifted  like  Saul's  above  the  crowd, 
Upon  his  kingly  forehead  fell 

The  first,  sharp  bolt  of  Slaveiy's  cloud, 
Launched  at  the  truth  he  urged  so  well. 

Ah  !  never  yet,  at  rack  or  stake, 

Was  sorer  loss  made  Freedom's  gain, 

Than  his,  who  suffered  for  her  sake 
The  beak-torn  Titan's  lingering  pain  ! 


COMMEMORATIVE  OBSERVANCES.       99 

The  fixed  star  of  his  faith,  through  all 
Loss,  doubt,  and  peril,  shone  the  same  ; 

As,  through  a  night  of  storm,  some  tall, 
Strong  light-house  lifts  its  steady  flame. 

Beyond  the  dust  and  smoke  he  saw 

The  sheaves  of  freedom's  large  increase, 

The  holy  fanes  of  equal  law, 
The  New  Jerusalem  of  peace. 

The  weak  might  fear,  the  worldling  mock, 

The  faint  and  blind  of  heart  regret ; 
All  knew  at  last,  th'  eternal  rock 

On  which  his  forward  feet  were  set. 

The  subtlest  scheme  of  compromise 

Was  folly  to  his  purpose  bold, 
The  strongest  mesh  of  party  lies 

Weak  to  the  simplest  truth  he  told. 

One  language  held  his  heart  and  lip, 

Straight  onward  to  his  goal  he  trod, 
And  proved  the  highest  statesmanship 

Obedience  to  the  voice  of  God. 

No  wail  was  in  his  voice, — none  heard 
When  treason's  storm-cloud  blackest  grew 

The  weakness  of  a  doubtful  word  ; 
His  duty,  and  the  end,  he  knew. 

The  first  to  smite,  the  first  to  spare ; 

When  once  the  hostile  ensigns  fell, 
He  stretched  out  hands  of  generous  care 

To  lift  the  foe  he  fought  so  well. 

For  there  was  nothing  base  or  small 

Or  craven  in  his  soul's  broad  plan  ; 
Forgiving  all  things  personal, 

He  hated  only  wrong  to  man. 


100  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

The  old  traditions  of  his  State, 

The  memories  of  her  great  and  good, 

Took  from  his  life  a  fresher  date, 
And  in  himself  embodied  stood. 

How  felt  the  greed  of  gold  and  place, 

The  venal  crew  that  schemed  and  planned, 

The  fine  scorn  of  that  haughty  face, 
The  spurning  of  that  bribeless  hand ! 

If  than  Rome's  tribunes  statelier 

He  wore  his  senatorial  robe, 
His  loft}'  port  was  all  for  her, 

The  one  dear  spot  on  all  the  globe. 

If  to  the  master's  plea  he  gave 

The  vast  contempt  his  manhood  felt, 

He  saw  a  brother  in  the  slave,— 
With  man  as  equal  man  he  dealt. 

Proud  was  he  ?  If  his  presence  kept 
Its  grandeur  wheresoe'er  he  trod, 

As  if  from  Plutarch's  gallery  stepped 
The  hero  and  the  demi-god, 

None  failed,  at  least,  to  reach  his  ear, 
Nor  want  nor  woe  appealed  in  vain ; 

The  homesick  soldier  knew  his  cheer, 
And  blessed  him  from  his  ward  of  pain. 

Safely  his  dearest  friends  may  own 
The  slight  defects  he  never  hid, 

The  surface-blemish  in  the  stone 
Of  the  tall,  stately  pyramid. 

Suffice  it  that  he  never  brought 
His  conscience  to  the  public  mart ; 

But  lived  himself  the  truth  he  taught, 

"White-souled,  clean-handed,  pure  of  heart. 


COMMEMORATIVE    OBSERVANCES.  101 

What  if  he  felt  the  natural  pride 

Of  power  in  noble  use,  too  true 
With  thin  humilities  to  hide 

The  work  he  did,  the  lore  he  knew  ? 

Was  he  not  just?     Was  any  wronged 

By  that  assured  self-estimate  ? 
He  took  but  what  to  him  belonged, 

Unenvious  of  another's  state. 

Well  might  he  heed  the  words  he  spake, 

And  scan  with  care  the  written  page 
Through  which  he  still  shall  warm  and  wake 

The  hearts  of  men  from  age  to  age. 

Ah  !  who  shall  blame  him  now  because 

He  solaced  thus  his  hours  of  pain  ! 
Should  not  the  o'erworn  thresher  pause, 

And  hold  to  light  his  golden  grain  ? 

No  sense  of  humor  dropped  its  oil 

On  the  hard  ways  his  purpose  went ; 
Small  play  of  fancy  lightened  toil ; 

He  spake  alone  the  thing  he  meant. 

He  loved  his  books,  the  Art  that  hints 

A  beauty  veiled  behind  its  own, 
The  graver's  line,  the  pencil's  tints, 

The  chisel's  shape  evoked  from  stone. 

He  cherished,  void  of  selfish  ends, 

The  social  courtesies  that  bless 
And  sweeten  life,  and  loved  his  friends 

With  most  unworldly  tenderness. 

But  still  his  tired  eyes  rarely  learned 

The  glad  relief  by  Nature  brought : 
Her  mountain  ranges  never  turned 

His  current  of  persistent  thought. 


102  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

The  sea  rolled  chorus  to  his  speech 
Three-banked  like  Latium's  tall  trireme, 

"With  laboring  oars  ;  the  grove  and  beach 
Were  Forum  and  the  Academe. 

The  sensuous  joy  from  all  things  fair 
His  strenuous  bent  of  soul  repressed, 

And  left  from  youth  to  silvered  hair 
Few  hours  for  pleasure,  none  for  rest. 

For  all  his  life  was  poor  without ; 

O  Nature,  make  the  last  amends  ; 
Train  all  thy  flowers  his  grave  about, 

And  make  thy  singing-birds  his  friends  ! 

Revive  again,  thou  summer  rain, 
The  broken  turf  upon  his  bed ! 

Breathe,  summer  wind,  tlr^  tenderest  strain 
Of  low,  sweet  music  overhead  ! 

With  calm  and  beauty  symbolize 
His  peace  which  follows  long  annoy, 

And  lend  our  earth-bent,  mourning  e}Tes 
Some  hint  of  his  diviner  joy. 

For  safe  with  right  and  truth  he  is, 
As  God  lives  he  must  live  alway  ; 

There  is  no  end  for  souls  like  his, 
No  night  for  children  of  the  day  ! 

Nor  cant  nor  poor  solicitudes 

Made  weak  his  life's  great  argument ; 

Small  leisure  his  for  frames  and  moods 
Who  followed  duty  where  she  went. 

The  broad,  fair  fields  of  God  he  saw 
Beyond  the  bigot's  narrow  bound  ; 

The  truths  he  moulded  into  law, 
In  Christ's  beatitudes  he  found. 


COMMEMORATIVE    OBSERVANCES.  103 

His  State-craft  was  the  Golden  Rule, 

His  right  of  vote  a  sacred  trust ; 
Clear,  over  threat  and  ridicule, 

All  heard  his  challenge  :  "  Is  it  just?" 

And  when  the  hour  supreme  had  come, 

Not  for  himself  a  thought  he  gave  ; 
In  that  last  pang  of  martyrdom, 

His  care  was  for  the  half-freed  slave. 

Not  vainly  dusky  hands  upbore, 

In  prayer,  the  passing  soul  to  heaven 

Whose  mercy  to  His  suffering  poor   • 
Was  service  to  the  Master  given. 

Long  shall  the  good  State's  annals  tell, 
Her  children's  children  long  be  taught, 

How,  praised  or  blamed,  he  guarded  well 
The  trust  he  neither  shunned  nor  sought. 

If  for  one  moment  turned  thy  face, 

O  Mother,  from  thy  son,  not  long 
He  waited  calmly  in  his  place 

The  sure  remorse  which  follows  wrong. 

Forgiven  be  the  State  he  loved 

The  one  brief  lapse,  the  single  blot ; 
Forgotten  be  the  stain  removed, 

Her  righted  record  shows  it  not ! 

The  lifted  sword  above  her  shield 

With  jealous  care  shall  guard  his  fame  ; 

The  pine-tree  on  her  ancient  field 

To  all  the  winds  shall  speak  his  name. 

The  marble  image  of  her  son 

Her  loving  hands  shall  yearly  crown, 
And  from  her  pictured  Pantheon 

His  grand,  majestic  face  look  down. 


104  CHARLES   SUMMER. 

O  State  so  passing  rich  before, 

Who  now  shall  doubt  thy  highest  claim? 

The  world  that  counts  thy  jewels  o'er 
Shall  longest  pause  at  SUMNER'S  name  ! 


Miss  ADELAIDE  PHILLIPS  then  sang  Mendelssohn's 
Aria : — 

"  O  rest  in  the  Lord — wait  patiently  for  Him  and  He  shall 
give  thee  thy  heart's  desires. 

"  Commit  thy  way  unto  Him,  and  trust  in  Him,  and  fret  not 
thyself  because  of  evil-doers." 


At  the  close  of  the  Eulogy  the  Quartette  sang : — 

"  Cast  thy  burden  upon  the  Lord,  and  He  shall  sustain  thee  : 
He  never  will  suffer  the  righteous  to  fall ;  He  is  at  thy  right 
hand.  Thy  mercy,  Lord,  is  great,  and  far  above  the  heavens. 
Let  none  be  made  ashamed  that  wait  upon  Thee  !  " 

The  Introductory  Remarks  by  Hon.  ALEXANDER  H. 
BULLOCK  were  as  follows  : — 

In  the  train  of  those  paying  mournful  tribute  to  CHARLES 
SUMNER  most  fit  is  the  presence  of  the  Legislature  of  Massa 
chusetts.  By  their  act,  twenty-four  years  ago,  the  gate  was 
opened  through  which  he  passed  to  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  for  life.  And  now,  after  this  lapse  of  time  and  the 
close  of  his  career,  the  Government  and  the  people  of  this 
Commonwealth  contemplate  with  just  and  solemn  satisfaction 
the  contribution  they  then  made  to  the  higher  sphere  of  states 
manship.  They  recall  his  first  appearance  there,  seemingly 
lost  amidst  a  majority  who  were  the  embodiment  and  type  of 
ideals  so  much  less  heroic  and  elevated  than  his  own  ;  with 
what  masterly  unreserve  he  began  and  continued  his  great 
mission,  abating  nothing,  disguising  nothing,  sweeping  in  his 
perspective  many  of  the  vast  results  which  have  since  been 


COMMEMORATIVE    OBSERVANCES.  105 

attained ;  how  he  lived  to  see  his  grand  central  aspirations 
realized,  his  main  purposes  accomplished,  at  his  death  leaving 
as  a  truth,  never  before  so  well  illustrated  at  the  Capital,  that 
the  character  of  statesman  and  senator  derives  added  strength 
and  lustre  from  the  character  of  scholar  and  philanthropist, 
liberator  and  reformer. 

At  the  moment  of  the  greatest  triumph  of  Wilberforce,  on 
the  passage  of  his  bill  abolishing  the  slave  trade,  Sir  Samuel 
Roinill}',  amid  the  ringing  acclamations  of  the  House  of  Com 
mons,  called  upon  the  younger  members  to  observe  how  supe 
rior  were  the  rewards  of  virtue  to  all  the  vulgar  conceptions 
of  ambition.  In  the  hour  of  the  greatest  triumph  of  SUMNER — 
the  hour  of  his  death — a  like  admonition  arose  from  his  vacant 
chair,  calling  upon  American  public  life  to  mark  the  loft}' 
exemplar,  by  whom,  amid  abounding  corruption,  comparative 
poverty  had  been  held  as  honor ;  to  whom  artifice  and  intrigue 
had  been  an  abhorrence ;  who,  in  the  long  practice  of  official 
transactions  and  official  manners,  had  never  acquired  an  official 
heart;  who  had  guarded  his  conscience  against  every  assault, 
and  always  kept  that  vessel  pure ;  upon  whose  headstone  the 
whole  Republic  inscribes  for  its  souvenance,  "Incorruptible 
and  unapproachable." 

With  one  mind  the  Senators  and  Representatives  of  Massa 
chusetts,  successors  to  those  who,  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century 
since,  sent  him  forth  with  the  seal  of  his  great  commission,  are 
present  by  these  final  and  august  ceremonies  to  deliver  him 
over  to  history.  In  selecting  their  orator  for  this  tender  office, 
they  could  not  fail  to  call  for  him  who  best  would  give  voice 
to  their  Eulogy.  As  our  lamented  Senator  was  a  master  in  all 
the  art  of  letters,  it  is  fitting  that  he  should  be  embalmed  by 
the  art  of  another  and  similar  master  and  personal  friend.  I 
introduce  to  you  Mr.  GEORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS. 

Mr.  CURTIS  then  rose  and  began  the  Eulogy. 

14 


EULOGY  BY  GEORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS. 


THE    EULOGY. 


THE  prayer  is  said — the  dirge  is  sung ;  from 
the  waters  of  the  Bay  to  the  hills  of  Berkshire 
the  funeral  bells  of  the  Commonwealth  have 
tolled;  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  of 
which  he  was  the  oldest  member  in  continuous 
service,  has  in  both  Houses  spoken  his  praises — 
no  voice  more  eloquent  than  that  of  his  oppo 
nents;  the  race  to  whose  elevation  his  life  was 
consecrated  has  bewailed  him  with  filial  grati 
tude;  this  city,  his  birthplace  and  his  home,  has 
proudly  mourned  its  illustrious  citizen;  the  pul 
pit  and  the  press  everywhere  in  the  land  have 
blended  sorrow  and  admiration;  and  now  his 
native  State,  with  all  its  honored  magistracy — • 
the  State  which  gave  him  his  great  opportunity, 
clothing  his  words  with  the  majesty  of  Massa 
chusetts,  so  that  when  he  spoke  it  was  not  the 
voice  of  a  man,  but  of  a  Commonwealth — lament 
ing  a  son  so  beloved,  a  servant  so  faithful,  a 
friend  so  true,  comes  last  of  all  to  say  farewell, 


110  CHARLES    STJMNER. 

and  to  deliver  the  character  and  career  of 
CHARLES  SUMMER  to  history  and  the  judgment 
of  mankind.  I  know  how  amply,  how  eloquently, 
how  tenderly,  the  story  of  his  life  has  been  told. 
In  this  place  you  heard  it  in  words  that  spoke 
for  the  culture  and  the  conscience  of  the  country 
— for  the  prosperous  and  happy.  And  yonder 
in  Faneuil  Hall  his  eulogy  fell  from  lips  that 
must  always  glow  when  they  mention  him — lips 
that  spoke  for  the  most  wronged  and  most 
unfortunate  in  the  land,  who  never  saw  the  face 
of  SUMMER,  but  whose  children's  children  will 
bless  his  name  forever.  I  might  well  hesitate 
to  stand  here  if  I  did  not  know  that,  enriched 
by  your  sympathy,  my  words,  telling  the  same 
tale,  will  seem  to  your  generous  hearts  to  pro 
long  for  a  moment  the  requiem  that  you  would 
not  willingly  let  die. 

Nor  think  the  threefold  strain  superfluous. 
How  well  this  universal  eulogy — these  mingling 
voices  of  various  nativity,  but  all  American — 
befits  a  man  whose  aims  and  efforts  were  uni 
versal;  whom  neither  a  city,  nor  a  State,  nor 
a  party,  nor  a  nation,  nor  a  race,  bound  with 
any  local  limitation!  On  a  lofty  hill  overlooking 
the  lake  of  Cayuga,  in  New  York,  stands  a 


THE    EULOGY.  Ill 

noble  tree,  in  the  grounds  of  the  Cornell  Uni 
versity,  under  which  an  Oxford  scholar,  choosing 
America  for  his  home  because  America  is  the 
home  of  Liberty,  has  placed  a  seat  upon  which 
he  has  carved,  "Above  all  nations  is  Humanity." 
That  is  the  legend  which  CHARLES  SUMMER 
carved  upon  his  heart,  and  sought  to  write  upon 
the  hearts  of  his  fellow-citizens  and  of  the  world. 
And  if  at  this  moment  my  voice  should  suddenly 
sink  into  silence,  I  can  believe  that  this  hall 
would  thrill  and  murmur  with  the  last  words  he 
ever  publicly  spoke  in  Massachusetts,  standing 
on  this  very  spot:  "Nor  would  I  have  my 
country  forget  at  any  time,  in  the  discharge  of 
its  transcendent  duties,  that,  since  the  rule  of 
conduct  and  of  honor  is  the  same  for  nations  as 
for  individuals,  the  greatest  nation  is  that  which 
does  most  for  humanity." 

Amidst  the  general  sorrow,  Massachusetts 
mourns  him  by  the  highest  right,  for  with  all 
the  grasp  of  his  hope  and  his  cosmopolitan 
genius,  perhaps  for  those  very  reasons,  he  was 
essentially  a  Massachusetts  man.  And  here  I 
touch  the  first  great  influence  that  moulded  your 
Senator.  This  is  the  Puritan  State,  and  the 
greatness  of  SUMNER  was  the  greatness  of  the 


112  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

Puritan  genius — the  greatness  of  moral  power. 
Learning  and  culture  and  accomplishment;  ses- 
thetic  taste  and  knowledge;  the  grace  of  society; 
the  scholar's  rich  resource  in  travel;  illustrious 
friendships  in  every  land;  the  urbanity  and  charm 
of  a  citizen  of  the  world — all  these  he  had;  all 
these  you  know;  yet  all  these  were  but  the  vel 
vet  in  which  the  iron  Puritan  hand  was  clad — 
the  Puritan  hand  which  in  other  days  had  smit 
ten  kings  and  dynasties  hip  and  thigh;  had 
saved  civil  and  religious  liberty  in  England;  had 
swept  the  Mediterranean  of  pirates;  had  avenged 
the  Lord's 

"  slaughtered  saints,  whose  bones 
Lie  scattered  on  the  Alpine  mountains  cold ; " 

the  Puritan  hand  which,  reaching  out  across  the 
sea,  sterner  than  the  icy  sternness  of  the  New 
England  shore,  grasped  a  new  continent,  and 
wrought  the  amazing  miracle  of  America. 

The  Puritan  spirit,  in  the  larger  sense,  en 
riched  with  many  nationalities,  broader,  more 
generous,  more  humane,  is  the  master  influence 
of  American  civilization,  and  among  all  our 
public  men  it  has  no  type  so  satisfactory  and 
complete  as  CHARLES  SUMNER.  He  was  the  son 
of  Massachusetts.  By  the  fruit  let  the  tree  be 


THE    EULOGY.  113 

judged.  The  State  to  whose  hard  coast  the 
Mayflower  came,  and  upon  whose  rocks  it 
dropped  its  seed — the  State  in  which  the  mingled 
Puritan  and  Pilgrim  spirit  has  been  most  active 
— is  to-day  the  chief  of  Commonwealths.  It  is 
the  community  in  which  the  average  of  well- 
being  is  higher  than  in  any  State  we  know  in 
history.  Puritan  in  origin  though  it  be,  it  is 
more  truly  liberal  and  free  than  any  similar 
community  in  the  world.  The  fig  and  the  pome 
granate  and  the  almond  will  not  grow  there,  nor 
the  nightingale  sing,  but  nobler  blossoms  of  the 
old  human  stock  than  its  most  famous  children, 
the  sun  never  shone  upon ;  nor  has  the  liberty- 
loving  heart  of  man  heard  sweeter  music  than 
the  voices  of  JAMES  OTIS  and  SAMUEL  ADAMS, 
of  JOHN  ADAMS  and  JOSEPH  WARREX,  of  JOSIAH 
QUINCY  and  CHARLES  SUMMER.  Surely  I  may 
say  so,  born  in  the  State  that  ROGER  WILLIAMS 
founded — ROGER  WILLIAMS,  the  prophet  whom 
Massachusetts  stoned. 

Into  this  State  and  these  influences  CHARLES 
SUMMER  was  born  sixty-three  years  ago,  while 
as  yet  the  traditions  of  colonial  ~New  England 
were  virtually  unchanged.  Here  were  the  town- 
meeting,  the  constable,  the  common  school,  the 

15 


114  CHARLES    SUMNEK. 

training-day,  the  general  intelligence,  the  moral 
ity,  the  habit  of  self-government,  the  homogeneity 
of  population,  the  ample  territory,  the  universal 
instinct  of  law.  Here  was  the  full  daily  practice 
of  what  De  Tocqueville  afterward  called  the 
two  or  three  principal  ideas  which  form  the 
basis  of  the  social  theory  of  the  United  States, 
and  which  seemed  to  make  a  Republic  possible, 
practicable,  and  wise.  It  was  one  of  the  good 
fortunes  of  SUMMER'S  life  that,  born  amidst  these 
influences,  he  used  to  the  utmost  the  advantage 
of  school  and  college.  To  many  men  youth 
itself  is  so  sweet  a  siren  that  in  hearing  her 
song  they  forget  all  but  the  pleasure  of  listening 
to  it.  But  the  sibyl  saved  no  scroll  from  SUM- 
NEE,;  he  had  the  wisdom  to  seize  them  all.  His 
classmates,  gayly  returning  late  at  night,  saw 
the  studious  light  shining  in  his  window.  The 
boy  w^as  hard  at  work,  already  in  those  plastic 
years  storing  his  mind  and  memory,  which 
seemed  indeed  an  "inability  to  forget,"  with  the 
literature  and  historic  lore  which  gave  his  later 
discourse  such  amplitude  and  splendor  of  illus 
tration  that,  like  a  royal  robe,  it  was  stiff  and 
cumbrous  and  awkward  with  exaggerated  rich 
ness  of  embroidery.  He  never  lost  this  vast 


THE    EULOGY.  115 

capacity  of  work,  and  his  life  had  no  idle  hours. 
Long  afterward,  when  he  was  in  Paris,  recover 
ing  from  the  blow  in  the  Senate,  ordered  not  to 
think  or  read,  and  daily,  as  his  physician  lately 
tells  us,  undergoing  a  torture  of  treatment  which 
he  refused  to  mitigate  by  anaesthetics,  simply 
unable  to  do  nothing,  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  and  collection  of  engravings,  in  which  he 
became  an  expert.  And  I  remember  in  the  mid 
summer  of  1871,  when  he  remained,  as  was  his 
custom,  in  "Washington,  after  the  city  was  de 
serted  by  all  but  its  local  population,  and  when 
I  saw  him  daily,  that  he  rose  at  seven  in  the 
morning,  and  with  but  a  slight  breakfast  at  nine, 
sat  at  his  desk  in  the  library  hard  at  work  until 
five  in  the  afternoon.  It  was  his  vacation:  the 
weather  was  tropical;  and  he  was  sixty  years 
old.  The  renowned  Senator  at  his  post  was  still 
the  solitary  midnight  student  of  the  college. 

But  other  influences  mingled  in  his  education, 
and  helped  to  mould  the  man.  While  his  heart 
burned  with  the  tale  of  Plutarch's  heroes,  with 
the  story  of  ancient  states,  and  the  politics  of 
Greece  and  Rome  and  modern  Europe,  he  lived 
in  this  historic  city,  and  was  therefore  familiar 
with  many  of  the  most  inspiring  scenes  of  our 


116  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

American  story.  I  know  not  if  the  people  of 
this  neighborhood  are  always  conscious  of  the 
hallowed  ground  upon  which  they  daily  tread. 
We  who  come  hither  from  other  States,  pilgrims 
to  the  cradle  of  American  independence,  are 
moved  by  emotions  such  as  we  cannot  else 
where  feel.  Here  is  the  "Old  South"  Meeting 
house — and  here  may  it  long  remain ! — where, 
however  changed,  still  in  imagination  Sam  Adams 
calls  the  Sons  of  Liberty  to  their  duty.  There 
is  the  old  State-house,  where  James  Otis,  with 
electric  eloquence,  brings  a  continent  to  its  feet. 
Beneath  is  the  ground  where  Crispus  Attucks 
fell.  Beyond  is  Faneuil  Hall,  the  plainest  and 
most  reverend  political  temple  now  standing  in 
the  world,  and  upon  the  principles  which  are  its 
inseparable  traditions  has  been  founded  the  most 
humane  republic  in  history.  There  is  the  Old 
North  steeple,  on  which  Paul  Revere's  lantern 
lights  the  land  to  independence.  Below  is  the 
water  on  which  the  scarlet  troops  of  Percy  and 
of  Howe  glitter  in  the  June  sunshine  of  ninety- 
nine  years  ago ;  and  lo !  memorial  of  a  battle 
lost  and  a  cause  won,  the  tall,  gray,  melancholy 
shaft  on  Bunker  Hill  rises — rises  "till  it  meets 
the  sun  in  his  coming,  while  the  earliest  light  of 


THE   EULOGY.  117 

morning   gilds   it,   and   parting    day  lingers    and 
plays  on  its  summit." 

These  scenes,  as  well  as  his  books  and  college, 
were  the  school  of  SUMNER;  and  as  the  tall  and 
awkward  youth,  dreaming  of  Marathon  and 
Arbela,  of  Sempach  and  Morgarten,  walked  on 
Bunker  Hill,  and  his  eyes  wandered  over  peace 
ful  fields  and  happy  towns  to  Concord  and 
Lexington,  doubt  not  that  the  genius  of  his 
native  land  whispered  to  him  that  all  knowledge 
and  the  highest  training  and  the  purest  purpose 
were  but  the  necessary  equipment  of  the  ambi 
tion  that  would  serve  in  any  way  a  country 
whose  cause  in  his  own  day,  as  in  the  day  of 
Bunker  Hill,  was  the  cause  of  human  nature. 
CHARLES  SUMOT^R  was  an  educated  man,  a  col 
lege-bred  man,  as  all  the  great  revolutionary 
leaders  of  Massachusetts  were;  and  he  knew,  as 
every  intelligent  man  knows,  that  from  the  day 
when  Themistocles  led  the  educated  Athenians 
at  Salamis  to  that  when  Von  Moltke  marshalled 
the  educated  Germans  against  France,  the  sure 
foundations  of  states  are  laid  in  knowledge,  not 
in  ignorance,  and  that  every  sneer  at  education, 
at  cultivation,  at  book-learning,  which  is  the 
recorded  wisdom  of  the  experience  of  mankind, 


118  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

is  the   demagogue's    sneer  at    intelligent   liberty, 
inviting  national  degeneration  and  ruin. 

SUMMER  was  soon  at  the  Law  School  the 
favorite  pupil  of  that  accomplished  magistrate 
Judge  Story,  the  right-hand  of  Marshall,  to 
whom  in  difficult  moments  the  great  Webster 
turned  for  law.  But  the  character  of  his  legal 
studies  when,  a  little  later,  he  was  lecturing  at 
the  Law  School — for  he  spoke  chiefly  of  consti 
tutional  law  and  the  law  of  nations — showed 
even  then  the  bent  of  his  feeling,  the  vague 
reaching  out  toward  the  future,  the  first  faint 
hints  and  foreshowings  of  his  own  ultimate 
career.  Could  it  have  been  revealed  to  him  in 
that  modest  lecture-room  at  Cambridge  as  he 
was  unfolding  to  a  few  students  the  principles 
of  international  law,  which  in  its  full  glory  he 
believed  to  be  nothing  less  than  the  science  of 
the  moral  relations  of  states  to  each  other,  that 
one  day  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and 
in  its  chief  and  most  honorable  place,  he  should 
plead  for  the  practical  application  of  the  prin 
ciples  which  he  cherished,  a  recognized  authority, 
and  himself  one  of  the  lawgivers  whom  he  had 
described  as  the  reformers  of  nations  and  the 
builders  of  human  society,  how  well  might  he 


THE   EULOGY.  119 

have  seen  that  culmination  of  his  career  as  the 
most  secret  hope  of  his  heart  fulfilled!  But 
again,  as  he  stood  there,  could  he  have  seen  as 
in  a  vision  that  one  day  also  he  should  stand 
in  that  Senatorial  arena  in  deadly  conflict  with 
crime  against  humanity — a  conflict  that  shook 
the  continent  and  arrested  the  world — and  as  a 
general  upon  the  battle-field  marshals  all  his 
forces,  holding  his  swift  and  glittering  lines  in 
hand — his  squadrons  and  regiments  and  artillery, 
his  skirmishers  and  reserves,  massing  and  dis 
persing  at  his  supreme  will,  and  at  last,  snatch 
ing  all  his  force,  hurls  it  at  the  foe  in  one 
blasting  bolt  of  fire  and  victory — so  he,  in  that 
other  and  greater  field,  should  gather  up  all  the 
accumulated  resources  of  his  learning,  all  the 
training  of  the  law,  all  the  deep  instincts  and 
convictions  of  his  conscience,  and  hurl  them  in 
one  blazing  and  resistless  mass  in  the  very  fore 
front  of  that  mighty  debate  that  flamed  into 
civil  war,  melting  four  millions  of  chains,  and 
regenerating  a  nation — could  all  this  have  been 
revealed  to  him,  I  doubt  if  he  could  have  pre 
pared  himself  for  the  great  part  that  he  was  to 
play  with  more  conscience  or  more  care. 

Then    to    the    influences    that    made    the    man 


120  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

was  added  a  residence  in  Europe.  He  returned 
a  polished  cosmopolitan ;  a  learned  youth  who 
had  sat  upon  the  bench  in  Westminster  Hall, 
and  taught  the  judges  the  rulings  of  their  own 
courts;  who  had  mingled  on  equal  terms  in  the 
bouts  of  lettered  wit,  no  longer  at  the  Mermaid, 
but  at  Holland  House,  and  the  breakfast-rooms 
of  accomplished  scholars  in  London  and  Paris 
and  Berlin  and  Rome.  He  returned  knowing 
almost  every  man  and  woman  of  renown  in 
Europe,  and  he  brought  back  what  he  carried 
away — a  stainless  purity  of  life  and  loftiness  of 
aim,  the  habit  of  incessant  work,  which  was  the 
law  of  his  being,  and  the  tastes  of  a  jurist,  but 
not  those  of  a  practising  lawyer.  His  look,  his 
walk,  his  dress,  his  manner,  were  not  those  of 
the  busy  advocate,  but  of  the  cultivated  and 
brilliant  man  of  society — the  Admirable  Crichton 
of  the  saloons.  He  was  oftener  seen  in  the 
refined  circles  of  the  city,  in  the  libraries  and 
dining-rooms  of  Prescott  and  Quincy,  of  Ban 
croft  and  Ticknor,  than  in  the  courts  of  law. 
Distinguished  foreigners,  constantly  arriving, 
brought  him  letters,  and  he  took  them  to  the 
galleries  and  the  college.  But  while  he  saun 
tered,  he  studied.  In  his  office  he  was  diligently 


THE   EULOGY.  121 

editing  great  works  of  law ;  not  practising  at 
the  bar,  for,  indeed,  he  was  not  formed  for  a 
jury  lawyer,  where  the  jury  was  less  than  a 
nation,  or  mankind.  The  electric  agility,  the 
consummate  tact,  the  readiness  for  every  re 
source,  the  humor  that  brightens  or  withers,  the 
command  of  the  opposite  point  of  view,  the 
superficial  ardor,  the  facility  of  simulation  that 
makes  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason,  the 
passionate  gust  and  sweep  of  eloquent  appeal— 
these  were  lacking,  and  wanting  these,  he  did 
not  seek  the  laurels  of  the  jury  advocate.  SUM 
MER'S  legal  mind  at  this  time,  and  throughout 
his  life,  was  largely  moulded,  trained  to  the 
contemplation  of  great  principles  and  to  lofty 
research.  As  one  of  his  admiring  comrades, 
himself  a  renowned  lawyer,  says  of  him,  "In 
sporting  terms,  he  had  a  good  eye  for  country, 
but  no  scent  for  a  trail."  The  movement  of  his 
mind  was  grand  and  comprehensive.  He  spoke 
naturally,  not  in  subtle  and  dextrous  pleas,  but 
in  stately  and  measured  orations. 

"When  he  returned  from  Europe  he  was  thought 
to  have  been  too  much  fascinated  by  England, 
and  throughout  his  life  it  was  sometimes  said 
that  he  was  still  enthralled  by  his  admiration  for 

16 


122  CHARLES    SUMNEE. 

that  country.  But  what  is  more  natural  to  an 
American  than  love  of  England?  Does  not 
Hawthorne  instinctively  call  it  "Our  Old  Home"? 
The  Pilgrims  came  to  plant  a  purer  England, 
and  their  children,  the  colonists,  took  up  arms 
to  maintain  a  truer  England,  but  an  England 
still.  They  became  independent,  but  they  did 
not  renounce  their  race  nor  their  language,  and 
their  victory  left  them  the  advanced  outpost  of 
English  political  progress  and  civilization.  The 
principles  that  we  most  proudly  maintain  to-day, 
those  to  which  SUMMER'S  whole  life  was  devoted, 
are  English  traditions.  The  great  muniments  of 
individual  liberty  in  every  degree  descended  to 
us  from  our  fathers.  The  Common  wealth,  justice 
as  the  political  corner-stone,  the  rule  of  the  con 
stitutional  majority,  the  habeas  corpus,  the  trial 
by  jury,  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press— 
these  are  English,  and  they  are  ours.  I  do  not 
agree  with  the  melancholy  Fisher  Ames  that 
"the  immortal  spirit  of  the  wood-nymph  Liberty 
dwells  only  in  the  English  oak";  but  the  most 
patriotic  American  may  well  remember  that  indi 
vidual  freedom  sometimes  seems  almost  surer 
and  sturdier  in  England  than  here,  and  may 
wisely  repair  to  drink  at  those  elder  fountains. 


THE    EULOGY.  123 

Englishman  in  this  generation  has  more 
influenced  the  thought  of  his  country  than  John 
Stuart  Mill,  and  the  truest  American  will  find 
upon  his  heroic  pages  gleams  of  a  fairer  and 
ampler  America  than  ever  in  vision  even  Samuel 
Adams  saw.  No,  110.  Plymouth  Rock  was  but 
a  stepping-stone  from  one  continent  to  another 
in  the  great  march  of  the  same  historic  develop 
ment,  and  to-day,  with  electric  touch,  we  grasp 
the  hand  of  England  under  the  sea,  that  the 
tumult  of  the  ocean  may  not  toss  us  further 
asunder,  but  throb  as  the  beating  of  one  common 
heart.  Is  it  strange,  then,  that  the  young  law 
yer,  whose  deepest  instinct  was  love  of  freedom, 
and  whose  youth  had  been  devoted  to  the  study 
of  that  noble  science  whose  highest  purpose  is 
the  defence  of  individual  right,  after  long  resi 
dence  in  the  land  of  John  Selden,  of  Coke,  of 
Mansfield,  of  Blackstone,  of  Romilly,  as  well  as  of 
Shakespeare  and  Bacon,  of  Newton  and  Jeremy 
Taylor — a  land  which  had  appealed  in  every 
way  to  his  heart,  his  mind,  his  imagination, 
whose  history  had  inspired,  whose  learning  had 
armed  him  to  be  a  liberator  of  the  oppressed— 
should  always  have  turned  with  admiration  to 
the  country  :?  Where,"  as  her  laureate  sings — 


124  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

"Where  freedom  broadens  slowly  down 
From  precedent  to  precedent"? 

Such  were  the  general  influences  that  moulded 
the  young  SUMMER.  But  to  what  a  situation  in 
his  own  country  he  returned ! — a  situation  neither 
understood  nor  suspected  by  the  fastidious  and 
elegant  circles  which  received  him.  The  man 
never  lived  who  enjoyed  more  or  was  more  fitted 
to  enjoy  the  higher  delights  of  human  society 
than  SUMMER,,  or  who  might  have  seemed  to 
those  who  scanned  his  habits  and  his  tastes  so 
little  adapted  for  the  heroic  part.  Could  the 
scope  and  progress  and  culmination  of  the  great 
contest  which  had  already  begun  have  been 
foreseen  and  measured,  CHARLES  SUMMER  would 
probably  have  been  selected  as  the  type  of  the 
cultivated  and  scholarly  gentleman  who  would 
recoil  from  the  conflict  as  Sir  Thomas  Browne 
shunned  the  stern  tumult  of  the  Great  Rebellion. 

In  speaking  of  that  conflict  I  shall  speak 
plainly ;  I  hope  to  speak  truly.  To  turn  to  Mr. 
SUMMER'S  public  career  is  to  open  a  chapter  of 
our  history  written  in  fire  and  closed  in  blood, 
but  which  we  must  be  willing  to  recall  if  we 
would  justly  measure  the  man.  Trained  in  his 
own  expectation  for  other  ends,  framed  for 


THE   EULOGY.  125 

friendship,  for  gentleness,  for  professional  and 
social  ease,  and  the  placid  renown  of  letters,  he 
was  suddenly  caught  up  into  the  stormy  cloud, 
and  his  life  became  a  strife  that  filled  a  genera 
tion.  But  during  all  that  tremendous  time,  on 
the  one  hand  enthusiastically  trusted,  on  the 
other  contemptuously  scorned  and  hated,  his 
heart  was  that  of  a  little  child.  He  said  no 
unworthy  word,  he  did  no  unmanly  deed ;  dis 
honor  fled  his  face ;  and  to-day  those  who  so 
long  and  so  naturally  but  so  wrongfully  believed 
him  their  enemy  strew  rosemary  for  remembrance 
upon  his  grave. 

Down  to  the  year  1830  the  moral  agitation 
against  slavery  in  this  country  smouldered.  But 
in  that  year  Benjamin  Lundy  touched  with  fire 
the  soul  of  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  and  that 
agitation  burst  out  again  irrepressibly.  You  re 
member — who  can  forget? — the  passionate  onset 
of  the  Abolitionists.  It  was  conscience  rising  in 
insurrection.  They  made  their  great  appeal  with 
the  ardor  of  martyrs  and  the  zeal  of  primitive 
Christians.  Fifth-monarchy  men,  ranters,  Ana 
baptists,  were  never  more  repugnant  to  their 
times  than  they,  and  they  became  the  prey  of 
the  worst  and  most  disorderly  passions.  The 


126  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

abolition    missionaries   were   mobbed,   imprisoned, 
maimed,  murdered,  but  still,  as  in  the  bitter  days 
of  Puritan  persecution  in  Scotland,  the  undaunted 
voices    of  the    Covenanters    were    heard    singing" 
hymns  that  echoed  and  re-echoed  from  peak  to 
peak   of   the   barren    mountains    until    the    great 
dumb    wilderness   was    vocal  with   praise,  so  the 
solemn  appeal  of  the  Abolitionists  to  the  Golden 
Rule  and  the  Declaration  of  Independence  echoed 
from  solitary  heart  to  heart  until  the   land  rang 
with  the  litany   of  liberty.     In  politics    the    dis 
cussion  had  been  stamped  out  like  a  threatening 
fire    upon    the    prairie    whenever    it    arose.      But 
soon    after    Mr.    SUMMER'S    return    from    Europe 
this,    too,    flamed    out    afresh    in    the    attempted 
annexation  of  Texas.      Early   in    1845    the   plan 
was    consummated.     Mr.   SUMMER   was   a  "Whig, 
but  then   and   always   he   was   above   all   a  man. 
He  was  too  well  versed  in  the   history  of  free 
dom  not  to   know  that  the   great  victories   over 
despotism   and    slavery  in   every  form  had   been 
won  by  united  action,  and  he  knew  that  united 
action    implies    organization    and    a   party.      But 
while  great  political   results  are  to  be  gained  by 
means    of  great   parties,    he   knew   that   a  party 
which   is    too   blind   to    see    or   too    cowardly  to 


THE   EULOGY.  127 

acknowledge  the  real  issue,  which  pursues  its 
ends,  however  noble,  by  ignoble  means,  which 
tolerates  corruption,  which  trusts  unworthy  men, 
which  suffers  the  public  service  to  be  prostituted 
to  personal  ends,  defies  reason  and  conscience, 
and  summons  all  honest  men  to  oppose  it. 
When  conscience  goes,  all  goes ;  and  wherever 
conscience  went,  CHARLES  SUMMER  followed.  It 
took  him  out  of  those  delightful  drawing-rooms 
and  tranquil  libraries ;  it  drew  him  away  from 
old  companions  and  cherished  friends;  it  exposed 
him  to  their  suspicion,  their  hostility,  their  scorn; 
it  forbade  him  the  peaceful  future  of  his  dreams 
and  expectations;  it  placed  him  at  the  fiery  heart 
of  the  fiercest  conflict  of  the  century;  it  hedged 
his  life  with  insults  and  threats  and  plots  of 
assassination;  it  bared  his  head  to  the  dreadful 
blow  that  struck  him  senseless  to  the  Senate 
floor,  and  sent  him  a  tortured  wanderer  beyond 
the  sea;  later  it  separated  him  from  the  co 
operation  of  colleagues,  and  severed  him  from 
his  party;  and  at  last  it  exposed  him,  sick  in 
body  and  in  mind,  to  the  blow  that  wounded 
his  soul,  the  censure  of  his  beloved  Massachu 
setts.  But  he  did  not  quail;  he  did  not  falter; 
he  showed  himself  still  to  be  her  worthy  son. 


128  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

Wherever  conscience  went,  CHARLES  SUMNER 
followed.  "God  help  me!"  cried  Martin  Luther, 
"  I  can  no  other."  w  God  help  me ! "  said 
CHARLES  SUMNER,  "I  must  do  my  duty." 

The  "Whigs  are,  or  ought  to  be,  he  said,  in 
1845,  the  party  of  freedom.  But  when  they 
refused  to  recognize  the  real  contest  in  the 
country  by  rejecting  in  their  National  Conven 
tion  of  1848  the  Wilmot  Proviso,  Mr.  SUMMER 
went  with  the  other  Conscience  Whigs  to 
Worcester,  and  organized  the  Free-soil  party; 
and  when,  in  the  winter  of  1850-51,  the  Leg 
islature  of  Massachusetts  was  to  elect  the  suc 
cessor  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER  in  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States,  the  Free-soil  chiefs — as 
upright,  able,  and  patriotic  a  body  of  political 
leaders  as  ever  Massachusetts  had — deliberately 
selected  Mr.  SUMNER  as  their  candidate — a 
selection  which  showed  the  estimate  of  the 
man  by  those  who  knew  him  most  intimately, 
and  who  most  thoroughly  understood  the  times. 
He  was  young,  strong,  learned,  variously 
accomplished,  a  miracle  of  industry,  zealous, 
pure,  of  indomitable  courage,  and  of  supreme 
moral  energy.  But  he  had  little  political  ambi 
tion,  and  in  1846  had  peremptorily  declined  to 


THE    EULOGY.  129 

be  a  candidate  for  Congress.  He  was  not  a 
member  of  either  of  the  great  parties.  He 
would  not  make  any  pledge  of  any  kind,  or 
move  his  tongue,  or  wink  his  eye,  to  secure 
success.  He  was  pledged  then  and  always  and 
only  to  his  sense  of  right.  He  stood  for  no 
partisan  end  whatever,  but  simply  and  solely 
for  uncompromising  resistance  to  slavery.  The 
contest  of  the  election  was  long;  it  lasted  for 
three  months,  and  on  the  24th  of  April,  1851, 
he  was  elected.  "  I  accept,"  he  said,  "  as  the 
servant  of  Massachusetts,  mindful  of  the  senti 
ments  uttered  by  her  successive  Legislatures,  of 
the  genius  which  inspires  her  history,  and  of 
the  men,  her  perpetual  pride  and  ornament, 
who  breathed  into  her  that  breath  of  liberty 
which  early  made  her  an  example  to  her  sister 
States."  How  these  lofty  words  lift  us  out  of 
the  grossness  of  public  corruption  and  inca 
pacity  into  the  air  of  ideal  states  and  public 
men!  "What  a  stately  summons  are  they  to 
his  beloved  Massachusetts  once  more  to  take 
the  lead,  and  again  to  guide  her  sister  States 
to  greater  political  purity  and  the  ancient  stand 
ards  of  public  character  and  service! 

The   hour   in  which   Mr.   SUMMER  wrote   those 

17 


130  CHAKLES    SUMNEK. 

words — the  hour  of  his  entrance  upon  public 
life — Was  the  darkest  of  our  history.  But  if  his 
mind  had  turned  regretfully  to  that  tranquil 
career  of  his  earlier  anticipation,  how  well 
might  his  good  genius  have  whispered  to  him 
what  the  flower  of  English  gentlemen  and 
scholars  had  written  three  hundred  years  before, 
"To  what  purpose  should  our  thoughts  be 
directed  to  various  kinds  of  knowledge  unless 
room  be  afforded  for  putting  it  into  practice,  so 
that  public  advantage  may  be  the  result?"  Or 
that  other  strain,  full  of  the  music  of  a  conse 
crated  soul,  in  which  Philip  Sidney  writes  to 
his  father-in-law,  "Walsingham,  "I  think  a  wise 
and  constant  man  ought  never  to  grieve  while 
he  doth  play,  as  a  man  may  say,  his  own  part 
truly." 

"What,  then,  was  the  political  situation  when 
Mr.  SUMNEE,  entered  the  Senate?  Slavery  had 
apparently  subdued  the  country.  Grand  Juries 
in  the  Northern  States  presented  citizens  who, 
in  time  of  peace,  wished  to  discuss  vital  public 
questions  as  guilty  of  sedition.  The  Legis 
latures  were  summoned  to  make  their  speeches 
indictable  offences.  In  the  Legislature  of  Rhode 
Island  such  a  bill  was  reported.  The  Governor 


THE    EULOGY.  131 

of  ]STew  York  favored  such  a  law.  The.  Gov 
ernor  of  Ohio  delivered  a  citizen  of  that  State 
to  the  authorities  of  another  to  be  tried  for 
helping  a  slave  to  escape.  The  Governor  of 
Massachusetts  said  that  all  discussion  of  the 
subject  which  tended  to  incite  insurrection  had 
been  held  to  be  indictable.  Every  great 
national  office  was  then,  and  long  had  been, 
held  by  the  ministers  of  slavery.  The  American 
embassadors  in  Europe  were  everywhere  silent, 
or  smoothly  apologized.  Every  Committee  in 
Congress  was  the  servant  of  slavery,  and  when 
the  Yice-President  left  his  seat  in  the  Senate  it 
was  filled  by  another  like  himself.  All  the 
attendants  who  stood  around  him,  the  door 
keepers,  messengers,  sergeants-at-arms,  down  to 
the  very  pages  who  noiselessly  skimmed  the 
floor,  were  selected  by  its  agents.  Beyond  the 
superb  walls  of  the  Capitol,  which  Senator  Ben- 
ton  had  long  solemnly  warned  the  country  was 
built  by  permission  of  that  Supreme  Power 
which  would  seize  and  occupy  it  when  the  time 
came,  the  whole  vast  system  of  national  offices 
was  within  the  patronage  of  slavery.  Every 
little  Post-Office,  every  Custom-House  clerkship, 
was  a  bribe  to  silence,  while  the  Postmaster- 


132  CHARLES    SUMSTER. 

General  of  the  United  States  robbed  the  mails 
at  its  bidding.  "When  SUMMER  entered  the  Sen 
ate  the  most  absolute  subserviency  to  slavery 
was  decreed  as  the  test  of  nationality,  and  that 
power  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  that  any  seri 
ous  effort,  however  lawfully  made,  to  change  its 
policy  would  strike  the  tocsin  of  civil  war. 
Meanwhile,  at  the  very  moment  of  his  election^ 
the  horrors  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  -Law  had 
burst  upon  thousands  of  innocent  homes. 
Mothers  snatched  their  children  and  fled,  they 
knew  not  whither.  Brave  men,  long  safe  in 
recovered  liberty,  were  seized  for  no  crime  but 
misfortune,  and  hurried  to  their  doom.  Young 
men  and  girls  who  had  been  always  free, 
always  residents  of  their  own  States,  were  kid 
napped  and  sold.  The  anguish,  the  sublime 
heroism,  of  this  ghastly  persecution  fills  one  of 
the  most  tragical  and  most  inspiring  epochs  of 
our  story.  Even  those  who  publicly  sustained 
the  law  from  a  sense  of  duty  secretly  helped 
the  flying  fugitives  upon  their  way.  The 
human  heart  is  stronger  than  sophistry.  The 
man  who  impatiently  exclaimed  that  of  course 
the  law  was  hard,  but  it  was  the  law,  and 
must  be  obeyed,  suddenly  felt  the  quivering, 


THE   EULOGY.  133 

panting  fugitive  clinging  to  his  knees,  guilty  of 
no  crime,  and  begging  only  the  succor  which 
no  honest  heart  would  refuse  a  dog  cowering 
upon  his  threshold;  and  as  he  heard  the  dread 
power  thundering  at  the  door,  WI  am  the  Law, 
give  me  my  prey!"  in  the  same  moment  he 
heard  God  knocking  at  his  heart,  "Inasmuch  as 
ye  have  done  it  unto  the  least  of  these  my  lit 
tle  ones,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me!" 

Those  days  are  passed.  That  fearful  conflict 
is  over;  and  the  flowers  just  strewn  all  through 
these  sorrowing  States,  indiscriminately  upon  the 
graves  of  the  blue  and  the  gray,  show  how 
truly  it  is  ended.  Heaven  knows  I  speak  of  it 
with  no  willingness,  with  no  bitterness;  but  how 
can  I  show  you  CHARLES  SUMXER  if  I  do  not 
show  you  the  time  that  made  him  what  he 
was?  This  was  the  political  and  moral  situa 
tion  of  the  country  when  he  took  the  oath  as 
Senator,  on  the  first  of  December,  1851.  The 
famous  political  triumvirate  of  the  former  gen 
eration  was  gone.  Mr.  Calhoun,  the  master- 
will  of  the  three,  had  died  in  the  previous  year. 
Mr.  "Webster  was  Secretary  of  State;  and  Henry 
Clay,  with  fading  eye,  and  bowed  frame,  and 
trembling  voice — Henry  Clay,  Compromise  incar- 


134  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

nate — feebly  tottered  out  of  the  chamber  as 
CHARLES  SUMMER,  Conscience  incarnate,  came 
in.  As  he  took  the  oath  the  new  triumvirate 
was  complete,  for  Mr.  Seward  and  Mr.  Chase 
had  taken  their  seats  two  years  before.  For 
some  months  Mr.  SUMXER  did  not  speak  upon 
the  great  topic,  and  many  of  his  friends  at 
home  thought  him  keeping  silence  too  long, 
half  fearing  that  he,  too,  had  been  enchanted 
by  the  woeful  Circe  of  the  South.  They  did  not 
know  how  carefully  slavery  prevented  him  from 
finding  an  opportunity.  A  month  before  he 
could  get  the  floor  for  his  purpose,  Theodore 
Parker  said,  in  a  public  speech,  "I  wish  he 
had  spoken  long  ago.  .  .  .  But  it  is  for 
him  to  decide,  not  for  us.  'A  fool's  bolt  is 
soon  shot,'  while  a  wise  man  often  reserves  his 
fire."  At  length,  on  the  26th  of  August,  1852, 
after  many  efforts  to  be  heard,  Mr.  SUMMER 
obtained  the  floor,  saying  as  he  arose,  "  The 
subject  is  at  last  broadly  before  the  Senate, 
and  by  the  blessing  of  God  it  shall  be  dis 
cussed." 

The  first  great  speech  upon  the  repeal  of  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  the  most  significant 
event  in  the  Senate  since  Mr.  "Webster's  reply 


THE   EULOGY.  135 

to  Hayne,  and  an  epitome  of  Mr.  SUMMER'S 
whole  public  career.  It  was  one  of  the  words 
that  are  events,  and  from  which  historical 
epochs  take  their  departure.  These  are  strong 
words.  See  if  they  are  justified.  The  slavery 
debate  was  certainly  the  most  momentous  that 
had  ever  occurred  in  the  country,  and  brave 
words  had  been  already  uttered  for  freedom. 
The  subtle,  and  sanguine,  and  sagacious  Seward 
had  spoken  often  and  wisely.  The  passionless 
Chase,  with  massive  and  Websterian  logic,  had 
pressed  his  solid  reasoning  home;  and  the  gay 
humor  of  Hale  had  irradiated  his  earnest  and 
strenuous  appeals.  But  all  of  these  men  were 
known  to  their  colleagues  as  members  of  par 
ties,  as  politicians,  as  men  of  political  ambition. 
With  such  elements  and  men  slavery  was  accus 
tomed  to  deal.  Carefully  studying  the  Senator 
from  j^ew  York,  it  saw,  with  the  utmost  purity 
of  character,  trained  ability,  acute  political 
instinct,  and  partisan  habit,  the  intellectual  opti 
mist  who  grasped  the  situation  with  his  brain 
rather  than  with  his  heart  and  conscience.  It 
tested  him  by  its  own  terrible  earnestness.  It 
weighed  him  in  the  balance  of  its  own  unquail- 
ing  and  uncompromising  resolution,  and  found 


136  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

him  wanting.  Do  not  misunderstand  me.  Mr. 
Seward  was  the  only  political  leader  for  whom 
I  have  ever  felt  the  admiring  loyalty  which 
older  men  felt  for  Webster,  and  Calhoun,  and 
Clay.  His  career  has  been  nobly  set  forth  by 
your  own  distinguished  citizen  (Mr.  Adams)  in 
his  discourse  before  the  Legislature  of  New 
York.  And  as  he  went  to  Albany  to  say  what 
he  believed  to  be  the  truth,  so  have  I  come 
hither.  Slavery  knew  Mr.  Seward  to  be  accus 
tomed  to  political  considerations,  to  party  neces 
sities,  to  the  claims  of  compromise.  It  knew 
the  scope  of  his  political  philosophy,  the  bright 
ness  of  his  hope  of  American  glory  under  the 
Union,  the  steady  certainty  of  his  trust  that  all 
would  be  well.  Even  if,  like  Webster,  and 
Calhoun,  and  Clay,  he  saw  the  gathering  storm, 
he  thought — and  he  did  not  conceal  his  thought 
—that  he  had  the  confidence  of  his  opponents, 
and  could  avert  or  control  the  tempest.  Slav 
ery  knew  that  he  could  not.  If  he  proudly 
declared  the  higher  law,  slavery  knew  that  he 
did  it,  as  Plato  announced  the  Golden  Bule,  as 
a  thinker,  not  as  an  actor;  as  a  philosopher, 
not  as  the  founder  of  a  religion  ready  to  be 
sealed  with  fire  and  blood.  But  this  was  the 


THE   EULOGY.  137 

very  spirit  of  slavery,   and  it  did  not  see  it   to 
be  his. 

In  the  midst  of  a  speech  which  logically  cut 
the  ground  from  beneath  the  slave  interest,  and 
calmly  foretold  the  blessing  of  the  emancipation 
that  was  unavoidable,  Mr.  Seward  would  some 
times  turn  and  hold  out  his  fingers  for  a  pinch 
of  snuff  toward  some  Southern  Senator,  who, 
turning  away  his  face,  offered  him  the  box. 
When  the  Senate  adjourned,  Mr.  Seward  would 
perhaps  join  the  same  colleague  to  stroll  home 
along  the  Avemie  as  if  they  had  been  country 
lawyers  coming  from  a  court  where  they  had 
been  arguing  a  dry  point  of  law.  It  showed 
how  imperfectly  he  felt  or  how  inadequately  he 
measured  the  sullen  intensity  and  relentless  pur 
pose  of  the  spirit  which  dominated  our  politics, 
and  would  pause  at  nothing  in  its  course.  In  a 
word,  that  spirit  was  essentially  revolutionary, 
and  Mr.  Seward  had  not  a  revolutionary  fibre  in 
his  being.  Long  afterward,  when  the  movement 
of  secession  had  begun,  as  he  walked  with  a 
fellow-Senator  to  the  Capitol  on  the  morning  of 
Washington's  birthday,  he  saw  on  all  sides  the 
national  flags  fluttering  in  the  sun,  and  exclaimed 
to  his  companion,  with  triumphant  incredulity, 

18 


138  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

"Look  there!   see  those  flags!   and  yet  they  talk 
of  disunion!" 

Up  to  the  moment  of  Mr.  SUMMER'S  appear 
ance  in  the  Senate  Mr.  Seward  had  been  the 
foremost  anti-slavery  leader  in  public  life.  But 
slavery,  carefully  studying  him,  believed,  as  I 
think,  that  he  would  compromise.  That  was  the 
test.  If  he  would  compromise,  he  might  annoy, 
but  he  was  not  to  be  feared.  If  he  would  com 
promise,  he  might  melodiously  sing  the  glory  of 
the  Union  at  his  pleasure.  If  he  would  com 
promise,  he  would  yield.  If  he  were  not  as 
invincibly  resolute  as  slavery,  he  was  already 
conquered;  and  he  was  the  leader  of  the  North. 
There  sat  Seward  in  the  Senate — yes,  and  there 
Webster  had  sat,  there  Clay  had  sat,  with  all 
their  great  and  memorable  service ;  there  in  its 
presiding  chair  Millard  Fillmore  had  sat;  and 
over  them  all  slavery  had  stalked  straight  on  in 
its  remorseless  imperial  career.  And  if,  as  Mr. 
Seward's  most  able  eulogist  mournfully  remarks, 
he  was  permitted  at  last  to  leave  public  life 
"  with  fewer  marks  of  recognition  of  his  brilliant 
career  than  he  would  have  had  if  he  had  been 
the  most  insignificant  of  our  Presidents,"  may  it 
not  be  that,  without  questioning  his  generous 


THE    EULOGY.  139 

character,  his  lofty  ability,  and  his  illustrious 
service,  there  was  a  general  feeling  that  in  the 
last  administration  under  which  he  served  he 
had  seemed  in  some  degree  to  justify  the  instinct 
of  slavery,  that  his  will  was  not  as  sternly  inex 
orable  as  its  own? 

I  do  not,  of  course,  forget  that  compromise 
makes  government  possible,  and  that  the  Union 
was  based  upon  it.  "All  government,"  says 
Burke,  "is  founded  upon  compromise  and  barter. 
.  .  .  But,"  he  adds,  "in  all  fair  dealing  the 
thing  bought  must  bear  some  proportion  to  the 
purchase  paid.  None  will  barter  away  the  im 
mediate  jewel  of  the  soul."  So  Sir  James  Mack 
intosh  said  of  Lord  Somers,  whom  he  described 
as  the  perfect  model  of  a  wise  statesman  in  a 
free  community,  that  "  to  be  useful  he  submitted 
to  compromise  with  the  evil  that  he  could  not 
extirpate."  But  it  is  the  instinct  of  the  highest 
statesmanship  to  know  when  the  jewel  of  which 
Burke  speaks  is  demanded,  and  to  resolve  that 
at  any  cost  it  shall  not  be  sold.  John  Pym  had 
it  when  he  carried  up  to  the  Lords  the  impeach 
ment  of  Strafford.  John  Adams  had  it  when  he 
lifted  the  Continental  Congress  in  his  arms  and 
hurled  it  over  the  irrevocable  line  of  independ- 


14:0  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

ence.  CHARLES  SUMMER  had  it  when,  at  the 
close  of  his  first  great  speech  in  the  Senate,  he 
exclaimed,  in  the  face  of  slavery  in  its  highest 
seat,  "By  the  Constitution  which  I  have  sworn 
to  support,  I  am  bound  to  disobey  this  act/' 
Until  that  moment  slavery  had  not  seen  in  public 
life  the  man  whom  it  truly  feared.  But  now, 
amazed,  incredulous,  appalled,  it  felt  that  it  had 
met  its  master.  Here  was  a  spirit  as  resolute 
and  haughty  as  its  own,  with  resources  infinitely 
richer.  Here  at  last  was  the  North,  the  Ameri 
can  conscience,  the  American  will — the  heir  of 
the  traditions  of  English  Magna  Charta,  and, 
far  beyond  them,  of  the  old  Swiss  cantons  high 
on  the  heaven-kissing  Alps — the  spirit  that  would 
not  wince,  nor  compromise,  nor  bend,  but  which, 
like  a  cliff  of  adamant,  said  to  the  furious  sea, 
"Here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed." 

Ten  years  afterward,  when  States  were  seced 
ing  and  preparing  to  secede — when  the  reluct 
ant  mind  of  the  North  began  to  see  that  war 
was  possible — when  even  many  of  Mr.  SUM 
MER'S  and  Mr.  Seward's  party  friends  trembled 
in  dismay,  Mr.  Seward  ended  his  last  speech  in 
the  Senate — a  guarded  plea  for  the  Union — by 
concessions  which  amazed  many  of  his  most 


THE    EULOGY.  141 

earnest  friends.  I  know  that  he  thought  it  the 
part  of  a  wise  statesmanship  that  he  who  was 
to  be  the  head  of  the  new  administration 
should  retain,  if  possible,  the  support  of  the 
opposition  of  the  North  by  shunning  every 
thing  like  menace,  and  by  speaking  in  the 
most  temperate  and  conciliatory  tone.  But  his 
mournful  concluding  words,  "I  learned  early 
from  Jefferson  that,  in  political  affairs,  we  can 
not  always  do  what  seems  to  us  absolutely 
best,"  sounded  at  that  time,  and  under  those 
circumstances,  like  a  mortal  cry  of  defeat  and 
surrender.  And  at  the  very  time  that  Mr.  Sew- 
ard  was  speaking  those  words,  Mr.  SUMXER 
was  one  evening  surprised  by  a  visit  in  "Wash 
ington  from  a  large  number  of  the  most  con 
spicuous  citizens  of  Boston,  all  of  whom  had 
been  among  his  strongest  and  most  positive 
political  opponents.  He  welcomed  them  gravely, 
seeing  that  their  purpose  was  very  serious,  and 
after  a  few  moments,  the  most  distinguished 
member  of  the  party  made  an  impassioned 
appeal  to  the  Senator.  :<You  know  us  all,"  he 
said,  "  as  fellow-citizens  of  yours  who  have 
always  and  most  strongly  regretted  and  opposed 
your  political  course.  But  at  this  awful 


142  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

moment,  when  the  country  hangs  upon  the 
edge  of  civil  war — and  what  civil  war  means 
you  know — we  believe  that  there  is  one  man 
only  who  can  avert  the  threatening  calamity, 
one  man  whom  the  North  really  trusts,  and  by 
whose  counsels  it  will  be  guided.  We  believe 
that  you  are  that  man.  The  North  will  listen 
to  you  and  to  no  other,  and  we  are  here  in 
the  name  of  humanity  and  civilization,  to 
implore  you  to  save  your  country."  The 
speaker  was  greatly  affected,  and  after  a 
moment  Mr.  SUMMER  said,  "  Sir,  I  am  surprised 
that  you  attribute  to  me  such  influence.  I  will, 
however,  assume  it.  Be  it  so.  What,  then, 
is  it  that  you  would  have  me  do?"  ""We 
implore  you,  Mr.  SUMMER,  as  you  love  your 
country  and  your  God,  to  vote  for  the  Critten- 
den  compromise."  "  Sir,"  said  CHARLES  SUM- 
KER,  rising  to  his  lofty  height,  and  never  more 
CHARLES  SUMXER  than  in  that  moment,  "if 
what  you  say  is  indeed  true,  and  if  at  this 
moment  the  ]STorth  trusts  me,  as  you  think, 
beyond  all  others,  it  is  because  the  North 
knows  that  under  no  circumstances  whatever 
would  I  compromise." 

It   was    precisely    because    slavery   recognized 


THE    EULOGY. 

this  when  he  made  his  first  important  speech, 
and  felt  for  the  first  time  the  immense  force 
behind  his  words,  that  I  call  that  speech  so  sig 
nificant  an  event.  I  do  not  claim  for  SUMMER 
deeper  convictions  or  a  sterner  will  than  those 
of  many  of  his  associates.  But  the  Abolition 
ists,  however  devoted  and  eloquent,  were  only 
private  citizens  and  agitators  who  abjured  politi 
cal  methods.  They  seemed  to  the  supreme 
influence  in  the  government  a  band  of  pestilent 
fanatics.  But  CHARLES  SUMMER  in  the  Senate, 
CHARLES  SUMMER  in  the  seat  of  Daniel  Webster, 
saying  that  the  Constitution  forbade  him  to 
obey  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  was  not  an  indi 
vidual;  he  was  a  representative  man.  ~No  meet 
ing  of  enthusiastic  men  and  women  in  a  school- 
house  had  sent  him  to  the  Senate,  but  the 
Legislature  of  a  State.  2for  that  alone,  for  that 
Legislature  had  not  sent  him  as  the  representa 
tive  of  a  party,  but  of  an  idea — an  idea  which 
had  been  powerful  enough  to  hold  its  friends 
close  together  through  a  contest  of  three 
months,  and  at  last  defeating  the  influences 
which  had  so  long  controlled  unquestioned  the 
politics  of  the  State,  had  lifted^into  the  Senate  a 
man  pledged  only  to  cry  Delenda  est  Carthago, 


144  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

and  who,  by  the  law  of  his  mental  and  moral 
structure,  could  no  more  compromise  the  prin 
ciple  at  stake  than  he  could  tell  a  lie.  Still 
further,  slavery  heard  the  young  Senator  proudly 
assert  that  the  Constitution  did  not  recognize 
slavery,  except  in  the  slave-trade .  clause,  whose 
force  was  long  since  spent;  that  the  clause  upon 
which  the  Fugitive  Law  was  grounded  wTas  a 
mere  compact  conferring  no  power,  and  that 
every  detail  of  the  process  provided  was  fla 
grantly  and  palpably  unconstitutional.  Slavery, 
he  insisted,  was  sectional,  liberty  was  national; 
and  throwing  this  popular  cry  to  the  country, 
he  irradiated  his  position  with  so  splendid  an 
illumination  of  illustration,  precedent,  argument, 
appeal,  that  it  shone  all  over  the  land.  How 
like  a  sunrise  it  strengthened  and  stimulated  and 
inspired  the  North!  It  furnished  the  quiver  of  a 
thousand  orators  and  newspapers,  and  was  an 
exhaustless  treasury  of  resources  for  the  debate. 
Above  all  it  satisfied  men  bred  in  reverence  of 
law  that  their  duty  as  citizens  was  coincident 
with  the  dictates  of  their  consciences,  and  that 
the  Constitution  justified  them  in  withstanding 
the  statute  which  their  souls  loathed. 

This   was   the   very    service    that  the    country 


THE    EULOGY.  145 

needed  at  that  time;  and  that  no  dramatic  effect 
should  be  wanting,  as  Henry  Clay  had  left  the 
Senate  for  the  last  time  on  the  clay  that  Mr. 
SUMMER  was  sworn  in,  so,  as  he  was  making  his 
first  great  plea  for  justice  under  the  Constitu 
tion,  his  predecessor,  Daniel  "Webster,  then  Sec 
retary  of  State,  came  into  the  Chamber,  and  also 
for  the  last  time.  I  know  no  more  impressive 
scene.  There  is  the  old  Senator,  then  the  chief 
figure  in  America,  who,  a  year  before,  on  the  7th 
of  March,  had  made  his  last  speech  supporting 
the  policy  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill,  and  against 
the  Wilmot  Proviso.  "Worn,  wasted,  sad,  with 
powers  so  great  and  public  service  so  renowned, 
the  Olympian  man  who  had  sought  so  long,  so 
ably,  so  vainly,  to  placate  the  implacable,  his 
seventy  years  ending  in  baffled  hopes  and  bitter 
disappointment  and  a  broken  heart,  gazed  with 
those  eyes  of  depthless  melancholy  upon  his 
successor.  And  here  stands  that  successor,  with 
the  light  of  spotless  youth  upon  his  face,  tower 
ing,  dauntless,  radiant;  the  indomitable  Puritan, 
speaking  as  a  lawyer,  a  statesman,  and  a  man, 
not  for  his  State  alone,  nor  for  his  country  only, 
but  for  human  rights  everywhere  and  always, 
forecasting  the  future,  heralding  the  new  Amer- 

19 


146  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

ica.  As  Webster  looked  and  listened,  did  he 
recall  the  words  of  that  younger  man,  seven 
years  before  in  Faneuil  Hall,  when  he  prayed 
the  party  that  Webster  led  to  declare  for  eman 
cipation?  Did  he  remember  the  impassioned 
appeal  to  himself,  that  as  he  had  justly  earned 
the  title  of  Defender  of  the  Constitution,  so  now 
he  should  devote  his  marvellous  powers  to  the 
overthrow  of  slavery,  and  thereby  win  a  nobler 
name?  Alas!  It  was  demanding-  dawn  of  the 
sunset!  It  was  beseeching  yesterday  to  return 
to-morrow.  It  was  imploring  Daniel  Webster  to 
be  CHARLES  SUMNER.  ISTo,  fellow-citizens,  in 
that  appeal  SUMNER  forecast  his  own  glory.  "As 
sume,  then,"  cried  he,  "these  unperformed  duties. 
The  aged  shall  bear  witness  to  you;  the  young 
shall  kindle  with  rapture  as  they  repeat  the 
name  of  Webster;  the  large  company  of  the  ran 
somed  shall  teach  their  children  and  their  chil 
dren's  children  to  the  latest  generation  to  call 
you  blessed,  and  you  shall  have  yet  another 
title,  never  to  be  forgotten  on  earth  or  in 
heaven,  Defender  of  Humanity." 

I  dwell  upon  this  first  great  speech  of  Mr. 
SUMMER'S  in  the  Senate,  because  it  illustrates 
his  own  public  qualities  and  character,  his  aims 


THE    EULOGY.  147 

and  his  methods.  He  began  to  take  an  official 
part  in  affairs  when  all  questions  were  deter 
mined  by  a  single  interest,  a  single  policy,  and 
all  issues  grew  out  of  that.  His  nature  was  so 
transparent  and  simple,  and  the  character  of  his 
relation  to  his  time  so  evident,  that  there  is 
but  one  story  to  tell,  All  his  greater  speeches 
upon  domestic  topics  after  that  of  August, 
1852,  were  but  amplifications  of  the  theme. 
The  power  that  he  had  defied  did  not  relax, 
but  redoubled  its  efforts  to  subdue  the  country 
to  its  will,  and  every  new  attempt  found  SUM- 
NEB  with  more  practised  powers,  with  more 
comprehensive  resources,  ready  and  eager  for 
the  battle.  For  the  whole  of  his  active  career, 
before,  during,  and  after  the  war,  his  work  was 
substantially  the  same.  He  was  essentially  an 
orator  and  a  moral  reformer,  and  with  unsur 
passed  earnestness  of  appeal,  emphasized  from 
first  to  last  by  the  incalculable  weight  of  his 
commanding  character,  his  work  was  to  rouse, 
and  kindle,  and  inspire  the  public  opinion  of  the 
country  to  his  own  uncompromising  hostility  to 
slavery.  In  this  crusade  he  traversed  the  land, 
as  it  were,  by  his  speeches,  a  new  Peter  the 
Hermit,  and  by  his  sincerity,  his  unconquerable 


148  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

zeal,  his  affluent  learning,  making  history,  and 
literature,  and  art,  tributary  to  his  purpose,  he 
entered  the  houses,  and  hearts,  and  minds  of 
the  people  of  the  Northern  States,  and  fanned 
the  flame  of  a  holy  hatred  of  the  intolerable 
and  audacious  wrong.  It  was  indispensable  to 
this  work  that  he  should  not  be  able  to  admit 
any  qualification  of  its  absorbing  necessity,  or 
any  abatement  of  the  urgency  with  which  it 
must  be  pursued.  Once,  in  later  days,  when  I 
argued  with  him  that  opponents  might  be  sin 
cere,  and  that  there  was  some  reason  on  the 
other  side,  he  thundered  in  reply,  "Upon  such 
a  question  there  is  no  other  side!"  The  time 
required  such  a  leader — a  man  who  did  not 
believe  that  there  was  another  side  to  the 
question;  who  would  treat  difference  of  opinion 
almost  as  moral  delinquency ;  and  the  hour 
found  the  man  in  SUMNER. 

For  see  what  the  leadership  of  opinion  in  this 
country  then  demanded.  In  the  first  place,  and 
for  the  reasons  I  have  mentioned — the  instinct, 
traditions,  and  habits  of  the  dominant  race  in 
our  civilization — such  a  leader  must  be  a  man 
who  showed  that  the  great  principles  of  liberty, 
but  of  liberty  under  law,  of  what  we  call  regu- 


THE    EULOGY.  149 

lated  liberty,  were  on  his  side;  whose  familiarity 
with  the  Constitution  and  with  constitutional 
interpretation,  and  whose  standing  among  law 
yers  who  dealt  with  the  comprehensive  spirit 
and  purpose  of  the  law,  were  recognized  and 
commanding,  so  that,  instructed  by  him,  the 
farmer  in  the  field,  the  mechanic  in  the  shop, 
the  traveller  by  the  way — all  law-loving  Ameri 
cans  everywhere,  could  maintain  the  contest 
with  their  neighbors  point  by  point  upon  the 
letter  of  the  Constitution,  and  show,  or  think 
they  showed,  that  the  supreme  law  in  its  inten 
tion,  in  the  purpose  of  its  authors,  by  the 
unquestionable  witness  of  the  time,  demanded  an 
interpretation  and  a  statute  in  favor  of  liberty. 
Then,  in  the  second  place,  this  leader  must  be 
identified  with  a  political  party,  for  the  same 
instinct  which  seeks  the  law  and  leans  upon 
precedent  acts  through  the  organization  of  par 
ties.  The  Free-soil  sentiment  that  sent  SUMMER 
to  the  Senate  was  the  real  creative  force  in  our 
politics  at  that  time.  It  had  a  distinct  organiza 
tion  in  several  States.  It  had  nominated  Presi 
dential  candidates  at  Buffalo;  and  although  the 
"Whig  and  Democratic  were  still  the  great  par 
ties,  the  Free-soil  principle  was  necessarily  the 


150  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

nucleus  around  which  a  new  and  truly  national 
party  must  presently  gather.  In  1852  the  com 
mon  enemy  silenced  the  "Whig  party,  which 
almost  instantly  dissolved  as  a  powerful  element 
in  politics,  and  the  Republican  party  arose.  ~No 
man  had  done  more  to  form  the  opinion  and 
deepen  the  conviction  from  which  it  sprang  than 
SUMMER  ;  no  man  accepted  its  aid  with  more 
alacrity,  or  saw  more  clearly  its  immense  oppor 
tunity.  As  early  as  September,  1854,  he  declared 
in  the  State  Convention  of  his  political  friends, 
"As  Republicans  we  go  forth  to  encounter  the 
oligarchs  of  slavery";  and  eighteen  years  after 
ward,  in  warning  the  party  against  what  he 
thought  to  be  a  fatal  course,  he  said  that  he  had 
been  one  of  the  straitest  of  the  sect,  who  had 
never  failed  to  sustain  its  candidates  or  to  ad 
vance  its  principles.  He  was  indeed  one  of  its 
fathers.  ~No  citizen  who  has  acted  with  that 
party  will  question  the  greatness  of  his  service 
to  it;  no  citizen  who  opposed  that  party  will 
deny  it.  The  personal  assault  upon  him  in  the 
Senate,  following  his  prodigious  defence  of  the 
Republican  position  and  policy,  and  soon  after 
the  first  national  nominations  of  the  party,  made 
him  throughout  the  inspiring  summer  of  1856, 


THE    EULOGY.  151 

to  the  imagination  of  the  twelve  hundred  thou 
sand  men  who  voted  for  its  candidates,  the  very 
type  and  illustration  of  their  hope  and  purpose. 
Nothing  less  than  such  humanity  in  the  national 
policy  and  such  lofty  character  in  public  life  as 
were  expressed  by  the  name  of  CHARLES  SUM- 
XER  was  the  aim  of  the  great  political  awakening 
of  that  time.  The  rank  and  file  of  the  party,  to 
borrow  a  military  phrase,  dressed  upon  SUMXER; 
and  long  afterward,  when  party  differences  had 
arisen,  I  am  sure  that  I  spoke  for  the  great 
body  of  his  political  associates  when  I  said  to 
one  who  indignantly  regretted  his  course,  that 
while  at  that  time  and  under  those  circumstances 
we  could  not  approve  his  judgment,  yet  there 
were  thousands  and  thousands  of  men  who 
would  be  startled  and  confused  to  find  them 
selves  marching  in  a  political  campaign  out  of 
step  with  CHARLES  SUMXER.  Thus  he  satisfied 
the  second  imperative  condition  of  leadership  of 
which  I  speak  as  a  conspicuous  and  decided 
party  chief. 

But  there  were  certain  modifications  of  these 
conditions  essential  to  the  position,  and  these 
also  were  found  in  SUMXER.  Such  was  the 
felicity  of  his  career  that  even  his  defects  of 


152  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

constitution  served  to  equip  him  more  fully  for 
his  task.  Thus,  while  it  was  indispensable  under 
the  circumstances  that  he  should  be  a  constitu 
tional  and  international  lawyer,  it  was  no  less 
essential  that  his  mind  should  deal  more  with 
principles  than  with  details,  and  with  the  spirit 
rather  than  the  letter.  He  saw  so  clearly  the 
great  end  to  be  achieved  that  he  seemed  some 
times  almost  to  assume  the  means.  Like  an 
Alpine  guide  leading  his  company  of  travellers 
toward  the  pure  and  awful  heights,  with  his  eye 
fixed  upon  their  celestial  beauty,  and  his  soul 


breathing  an 


"  Ampler  ether,  a  diviner  air," 


he  moved  straight  on,  disdaining  obstacles  that 
would  have  perplexed  a  guide  less  absolutely 
absorbed,  and  who  by  moments  of  doubt  and 
hesitation  would  have  imperilled  everything. 

Thus  his  legal  mind,  in  the  pursuit  of  a 
moral  end,  had  sometimes  what  I  may  call  a 
happy  lack  of  logic;  for  it  enabled  him  to 
throw  the  whole  force  of  his  nature  unreserv 
edly  upon  a  good  purpose.  Sure  of  his  end, 
and  that  everything  ought  to  make  for  it,  he 
felt  that  everything  did  make  for  it.  For 


THE    EULOGY.  153 

instance,  his  first  great  public  oration  upon  the 
"True  Grandeur  of  Nations,"  was  a  most  pow 
erful  presentation  of  the  glory  and  beauty  of 
peace,  and  a  mighly  denunciation  of  the  hor 
rors  and  wrongs  of  war.  It  was  an  intrepid 
and  impressive  discourse,  and  its  influence  will 
be  deep  and  lasting.  But  it  overstated  its  own 
case.  It  exposed  the  citizen  soldier  not  only  to 
ridicule,  but  to  moral  aversion.  And  yet  the 
young  men  who  sat  in  martial  array  before  the 
orator  had  not  submitted  to  military  discipline 
merely  for  the  splendor  of  a  parade,  but  that 
in  the  solemn  and  exigent  hour  they  might  the 
more  effectively  defend  the  public  safety  and 
private  honor,  the  school  and  the  hospital,  and 
social  order  itself,  the  only  guarantee  of  peace, 
and  all  this  not  at  the  arbitrary  command  of 
their  own  will,  but  by  the  lawful  and  consid 
ered  word  of  the  civil  power.  "What  is  military 
force  which  he  derided  but,  in  the  last  resort, 
the  law  which  he  revered,  in  execution?  As  a 
friend  asked  him,  Are  the  judgments  of  Story 
and  of  Shaw  advice  merely?  Do  they  not,  if 
need  be,  command  every  bayonet  in  the  State? 
Is  force  wrong,  and  must  the  policeman  not 

only  be  prohibited  from    carrying   a   pistol   or   a 
20 


154  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

club,  but  must  lie  be  forbidden  to  lay  his  hand 
upon  the  thief  in  the  act  to  compel  him  to  the 
station?  The  young  citizen  soldiers  who  sat 
before  the  orator  were  simply  the  ultimate 
police.  To  decry  to  them  with  resounding  and 
affluent  power  the  practice  which  covered  w^ar 
with  a  false  lustre  was  a  noble  service,  but  to 
do  it  in  a  way  that  would  forbid  the  just  and 
lawful  punishment  of  a  murderer  disclosed  a 
defective  logic.  His  argument  logically  seemed 
to  imply  that  he  was  an  absolute  non-resistant. 
But  he  was  not  so;  nor  was  there  any  incon 
sistency  in  his  firm  support  of  the  war  sixteen 
years  later.  In  the  instances  that  I  mention,  he 
used  arguments  that  were  two-edged  swords, 
apt  to  wound  the  wielder  as  well  as  the  enemy. 
And  so  he  sometimes  adopted  propositions  of 
constitutional  or  international  law  which  led 
straight  to  his  moral  end,  but  which  would 
hardly  have  endured  the  legal  microscope.  Yet 
he  maintained  them  with  such  fervor  of  con 
viction,  such  an  array  of  precedent,  such  ampli 
tude  of  illustration,  that  to  the  great  popular 
mind,  morally  exalted  like  his  own,  his  state 
ments  had  the  majesty  and  the  conclusiveness 
of  demonstrations. 


THE    EULOGY.  155 

And  this,  again,  was  what  the  time  needed. 
The  debate  was  essentially,  although  under  the 
forms  of  law,  revolutionary.  It  aimed  at  the 
displacement  not  only  of  an  administration,  but 
of  a  theory  of  the  government,  and  of  tradi 
tional  usage  that  did  not  mean  to  yield  with 
out  a  struggle.  It  required,  therefore,  not  the 
judicially  logical  mind,  nor  the  fine  touch  of 
casuistry  that  splits,  and  halts,  and  defers  until 
the  cause  is  lost,  but  the  mind  so  absolutely 
alive  with  the  idea  and  fixed  upon  the  end  that 
it  compels  the  means.  John  Pym  was  resolved 
that  Strafford  should  be  impeached,  and  he 
found  the  law  for  it.  CHARLES  SUMMER  was 
resolved  that  slavery  should  fall,  and  he  found 
the  Constitution  for  it.  When  the  great  debate 
ended,  and  there  was  the  moment  of  dread 
silence  before  the  outburst  of  civil  war,  the 
legal  casuistry  which  had  found  the  terrors  of 
the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  constitutional  could  see 
no  power  in  the  Constitution  to  coerce  States, 
CHARLES  SUMMER,  who  had  found  in  the  Consti 
tution  no  authority  for  slave-hunting,  answered 
the  furious  cannonade  at  Fort  Sumter  by  declar 
ing  that  slavery  had  legally  destroyed  itself,  and 
by  demanding  immediate  emancipation. 


156  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

And  as  the  crisis  in  which  SUMNER  lived 
required  that,  in  a  leader,  the  qualities  of  a 
lawyer  should  be  modified  by  those  of  the  pa 
triot  and  the  moralist,  so  it  demanded  that  the 
party  man  should  be  more  than  a  partisan.  He 
never  forgot  that  a  party  is  a  means,  not  an 
end.  He  knew  the  joy  and  the  power  of  asso 
ciation — no  man  better.  He  knew  the  history 
of  parties  everywhere — in  Greece  and  Koine, 
in  England  and  France,  and  in  our  own  earlier 
day  ;  and  he  knew  how  insensibly  a  party 
comes  to  resemble  an  army,  and  an  army  to 
stand  for  the  country  and  cause  which  it  has 
defended.  But  he  knew  above  all  that  parties 
are  kept  pure  and  useful  only  by  the  resolute 
independence  of  their  members,  and  that  those 
leaders  whom,  from  their  lofty  principle  and 
uncompromising  qualities,  parties  do  not  care  to 
nominate,  are  the  very  leaders  who  make  par 
ties  able  to  elect  their  candidates.  The  Repub 
lican  party  was  organized  to  withstand  slavery 
when  slavery  dared  all.  It  needed,  therefore, 
one  great  leader  at  least  who  was  not  merely  a 
partisan;  who  did  not  work  for  party  ends  but 
for  the  ends  of  the  party.  It  needed  a  man 
absorbed  and  mastered  by  hostility  to  slavery; 


THE    EULOGY.  157 

a  man  of  one  idea,  like  Columbus,  with  his 
whole  soul  trembling  ever  to  the  west,  weary 
ing  courts,  and  kings,  and  councils,  with  his 
single,  incessant  and  importunate  plea,  until  he 
sailed  over  the  horizon  and  gave  a  New  World 
to  the  Old;  a  man  of  one  idea,  like  Luther, 
pleading  his  private  conscience  against  the 
ancient  hierarchy,  and  giving  both  worlds  relig 
ious  liberty.  Yes,  a  man  of  one  idea.  This 
was  what  the  time  demanded  in  public  and 
party  life,  and  this  it  found  in  CHARLES  SUM 
MER;  not  an  anti-slavery  man  only,  but  a  man 
in  whose  soul,  for  thirty  years,  the  sigh  of  the 
slave  never  ceased,  and  whose  dying  words 
were  a  prayer  to  save  the  bill  that  made  that 
slave  wholly  an  equal  citizen. 

When  the  Republican  party  came  into  power 
it  was  forced  to  conduct  a  war  in  which  the 
very  same  qualities  were  demanded.  The  public 
mind  needed  constantly  to  be  roused  and  sus 
tained  by  the  trumpet-note  of  an  ever  higher 
endeavor,  and  from  no  leader  did  it  hear  that 
tone  more  steadily  and  clearly  than  from  SUM- 
NER.  When  the  most  radical,  wliich  in  such  a 
moment  is  the  wisest,  policy  came  to  be  dis 
cussed  in  detailed  measures,  he  had  already 


158  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

robbed  it  of  its  terrors  by  making  it  familiar. 
While  Congress  declared  by  a  vote  almost  unani 
mous  that  emancipation  was  not  a  purpose  or 
an  element  of  the  war,  SUMNER  proclaimed  to 
the  country  that  slavery  was  perpetual  war,  and 
that  emancipation  only  was  peace.  Like  Nelson 
in  the  battle  of  the  Baltic — when  the  admiral 
signaled  to  stop  fighting  he  put  the  glass  to  his 
blind  eye  and  shouted,  "I  don't  sec  the  admiral's 
signal;  nail  my  own  colors  to  the  mast  for  closer 
battle ! "  As  before  the  war,  so  while  it  raged, 
he  felt  the  imperial  necessity  of  the  conclusion 
so  strongly  that  he  made  all  arguments  serve, 
and  forced  all  facts  into  line.  He  was  alive 
with  the  truth  that  Dryden  nobly  expresses:  "I 
have  heard,  indeed,  of  some  virtuous  persons 
who  have  ended  unfortunately,  but  never  of 
any  virtuous  nation.  Providence  is  engaged  too 
deeply  when  the  cause  becomes  so  general." 
Mr.  Lincoln,  who  was  a  natural  diplomatist,  for 
tunately  understood  Mr.  SUMNER.  The  Presi 
dent  knew  as  well  as  the  Senator  that  the  war 
sprang  from  slavery.  He  had  already  said  that 
the  house  of '  the  Union  divided  against  itself 
could  not  stand.  He  knew  as  well  as  SUMMER 
that  slavery  must  be  smitten.  But  he  knew 


THE    EULOGY.  159 

also  that  in  his  position  he  could  not  smite  until 
public  opinion  lifted  his  arm.  To  stimulate  that 
opinion,  therefore,  was  the  most  precious  service 
to  the  President,  to  the  country,  and  the  world. 
Thus  it  was  not  the  appeal  to  Lincoln,  it  was 
the  appeal  to  public  opinion,  that  was  demanded. 
It  was  not  SUMMER'S  direct  but  his  reflected 
light  that  was  so  useful.  And  when  the  Presi 
dent  at  last  raised  his  arm — for  he  pulled  no 
unripe  fruit,  and  he  did  nothing  until  he  thought 
the  time  had  fully  come — he  knew  that  the 
country  was  ready,  and  that  no  man  more  than 
SUMNER  had  made  it  so.  When  the  Assistant 
Secretary  of  State  carried  the  engrossed  copy  of 
the  Emancipation  Proclamation  to  Mr.  Lincoln 
to  sign,  he  had  been  shaking  hands  all  the 
morning,  so  that  his  writing  was  unsteady.  He 
looked  at  it  for  a  moment  with  his  sadly  humor 
ous  smile,  and  then  said,  "  When  people  see  that 
shaky  signature  they  will  say,  ?  See  how  uncer 
tain  he  was.'  But  I  was  never  surer  of  any 
thing  in  my  life." 

But  while  SUMMER  righteously  stimulated  pub 
lic  opinion  during  the  war,  not  less  on  one  mem 
orable  occasion  did  he  righteously  moderate  it. 
I  once  ventured  to  ask  Mr.  Seward  what  in  his 


160  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

judgment  was  the  darkest  hour  of  the  war.  He 
answered  instantly,  "The  time  that  'elapsed 
between  my  informally  sending  to  Lord  Lyons 
a  draft  of  my  reply  in  the  Trent  case  and  my 
hearing  from  him  that  it  would  be  satisfactory." 
He  thought  it  the  darkest  hour,  because  he 
knew  that  in  that  reply  he  had  made  the  utmost 
concession  that  public  opinion  would  tolerate, 
and  if  it  were  not  satisfactory,  nothing  remained 
but  war  with  England — a  war  which  Mr.  Adams 
tells  us,  he  thinks  that  the  British  government 
expected,  and  for  Which  it  had  already  issued 
naval  instructions.  Mr.  SUMMER,  who  was  most 
friendly  with  Mr.  Seward,  was  chairman  of  the 
Senate  Committee  of  Foreign  Relations,  and, 
next  to  his  constant  and  inspiring  consciousness 
that  he  was  a  Senator  of  Massachusetts,  his 
position  as  the  head  of  that  committee  was  the 
pride  and  glory  of  his  official  life.  Few  men  in 
the  'country  have  ever  been  so  amply  fitted  for 
it  as  he.  From  his  youth  he  had  been  a  student 
of  international  law.  He  was  master  of  its  his 
tory  and  literature.  It  was  his  hope — surely  a 
noble  ambition — to  contribute  to  it  something 
that  might  still  further  humanize  the  comity  of 
nations.  He  was  familiar  with  the  current  poll- 


THE    EULOGY.  161 

tics  of  the  world,  and  he  personally  knew  most 
of  the  distinguished  foreign  statesmen  of  his 
time.  Above  all,  he  brought  to  his  chair  the 
lofty  conviction  expressed  by  another  master  of 
international  law,  that  "  the  same  rules  of  morality 
which  hold  together  men  in  families,  and  which 
form  families  into  commonwealths,  also  link 
together  those  commonwealths  as  members  of 
the  great  society  of  mankind."  He  was  very 
proud  of  that  chairmanship;  and  when,  in  the 
spring  of  1871,  upon  the  annual  renewal  of  the 
committees  of  the  Senate,  his  Republican  col 
leagues  decided  not  to  restore  him  to  his  chair, 
he  felt  degraded  and  humiliated  before  the  coun 
try  and  foreign  powers.  He  had  held  it  for  ten 
years.  His  party  was  still  in  the  ascendant. 
His  qualifications  were  undeniable.  And  he  felt 
that  the  refusal  to  restore  him  implied  some 
deep  distrust  or  dissatisfaction,  for  which,  what 
ever  good  reasons  existed,  none  but  the  pleas 
ure  of  the  Senate  has  yet  been  given  to  the 
country. 

While  he  was  still  chairman,  and  at  a  critical 
moment,  the  seizure  of  the  Trent  was  hailed 
with  frantic  applause.  Nothing  seemed  less  likely 
than  that  an  administration  could  stand  which 

21 


162  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

should  restore  the  prisoners,  and  Mr.  Seward's 
letter  was  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  skilful 
that  he  ever  wrote.  Mr.  Adams  says  frankly 
that  in  his  judgment  it  saved  the  unity  of  the 
nation.  But  the  impressive  fact  of  the  moment 
was  the  acquiescence  of  the  country  in  the  sur 
render,  and  that  in  great  degree  was  due  to  the 
conclusive  demonstration  made  by  Mr.  SUMMER 
that  fidelity  to  our  own  principles  required  the 
surrender.  It  was  precisely  one  of  the  occasions 
when  his  value  as  a  public  man  was  plainly  evi 
dent.  From  the  crowded  diplomatic  gallery  in 
the  Senate,  attentive  Europe  looked  and  listened. 
His  words  were  weighed  one  by  one  by  men 
whom  sympathy  with  his  cause  did  not  seduce, 
nor  a  too  susceptible  imagination  betray,  and  who 
acknowledged  when  he  ended,  not  only  that  the 
nation  had  escaped  war  and  that  the  action  of 
the  administration  had  been  vindicated,  but  that 
the  renown  of  the  country  had  been  raised  by 
the  clear  and  luminous  statement  of  its  humane 
and  peaceful  traditions  of  neutrality.  "Until 
to-day,"  said  one  of  the  most  accomplished  of 
those  diplomatists,  "I  have  considered  Mr.  SUM- 
NEB  a  doctrinaire;  henceforth  I  recognize  him  as 
a  statesman."  He  had  silenced  England  by  her 


THE   EULOGY.  163 

historic  self.  He  had  justified  America  by  her 
own  honorable  precedent.  The  country  knew 
that  he  spoke  from  the  fullest  knowledge,  and 
with  the  loftiest  American  and  humane  purpose, 
and  his  service  in  promoting  national  acquies 
cence  in  the  surrender  of  the  captives  was  as 
characteristic  as  in  nerving  the  public  mind  to 
demand  emancipation. 

But  while  Mr.  SUMKETC'S  public  career  was 
chiefly  a  relentless  warfare  with  slavery,  it  was 
only  because  slavery  was  the  present  and  pal 
pable  form  of  that  injustice  with  which  his 
nature  was  at  war.  The  spring  of  his  public 
life  was  that  overpowering  love  of  peace  and 
justice  and  equality  which  spoke  equally  in  his 
early  Prison  Discipline  debates;  in  the  Fourth 
of  July  oration  in  Boston;  in  his  literary 
addresses;  in  the  powerful  anti-slavery  speeches 
in  the  Senate;  in  his  advocacy  of  emancipation  as 
the  true  policy  of  the  war,  and  of  equal  civil  and 
political  rights  as  the  guarantee  of  its  results; 
in  his  Senatorial  efforts  to  establish  arbitration; 
in  his  condemnation  of  privateering,  prize-money, 
and  letters  of  marque;  in  his  arraignment  of 
Great  Britain  for  a  policy  which  favored  slavery ; 
in  his  unflinching  persistence  for  the  Civil  Rights 


164  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

Bill;  in  his  last  great  protest  against  the  annex 
ation  of  San  Domingo,  and  his  denunciation  of 
what  he  thought  a  cruel  and  un-American  hos 
tility  to  the  republic  of  Hayti.  He  was  a  born 
warrior  with  public  injustice. 

Many  public  men  permit  their  hostility  to  a 
wrong  to  be  modified  in  its  expression  by  per 
sonal  feeling,  and  to  reflect  that  good  men,  from 
the  influence  of  birth  and  training,  may  sometimes 
support  a  wrong  system.  But  SUMXER  saw  in 
his  opponents  not  persons,  but  a  cause,  and,  like 
Socrates  in  the  battle  he  smote  to  the  death,  but 
with  no  personal  hostility.  In  turn  he  was  so 
identified  with  his  own  cause,  that  he  seemed  to 
his  opponents  to  be  the  very  spirit  with  which 
they  contended, — visible,  aggressive,  arrogant. 
His  tone  in  debate  when  he  arraigned  slavery, 
although  he  arraigned  slavery  alone,  was  so 
unsparing  that  all  his  supporters  felt  themselves 
to  be  personally  insulted.  After  the  war  began 
I  heard  his  speech  in  the  Senate  for  the  expulsion 
of  Mr.  Bright,  of  Indiana,  for  commerce  with  the 
enemy.  It  was  a  lash  of  scorpions.  Mr.  Bright 
sat  in  his  place,  pale  and  livid  by  turns,  and 
gazing  at  Mr.  SUMXER  as  if  he  could  scarce 
restrain  himself  from  springing  at  his  throat. 


THE    EULOGY.  165 

Yet  when  the  orator  shook  his  lifted  finger  at  his 
colleague,  and  hurled  at  him  his  scathing  sen 
tences,  it  was  not  the  man  that  he  saw  before  him: 
he  saw  only  the  rebellion,  only  slavery  in  arms, 
with  Catalinian  audacity  proudly  thrusting  itself 
into  the  Capitol,  and  daring  to  sit  in  the  very 
Senate-chamber.  But  Mr.  SUMMER'S  attitude  and 
tone  that  day,  with  a  vast  majority  at  his  side, 
with  a  friendly  army  in  the  city,  were  no  bolder, 
no  more  resolutely  defiant,  than  when  he  stood  in 
the  same  chamber  demanding  the  expulsion  of 
slavery  from  the  statute-book,  while  the  majority 
of  his  colleagues  would  fain  have  silenced  him, 
and  the  city  was  a  camp  of  his  enemies. 

It  was  often  said  that  it  was  impossible 
he  should  know  the  peril  of  his  position.  It 
was  not  that.  He  did  know  it.  But  he  saw 
and  feared  a  greater  peril — that  of  not  doing 
his  duty.  He  often  stood  practically  alone 
among  responsible  public  men.  The  spirit  which 
begged  Abraham  Lincoln  to  strike  out  of  his 
Springfield  speech,  in  1858,  the  words  "a  house 
divided  against  itself  cannot  stand,"  a  request 
which  Mr.  Lincoln  said  that  he  would  carefully 
consider,  and  having  considered,  spoke  the 
words,  and  went  straight  on  to  the  Presidency 


166  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

and  a  glorious  renown — this  spirit  censured 
SUMMER'S  fanaticism,  his  devotion  to  one  idea; 
derided  his  rhetoric,  his  false  taste,  his  want  of 
logic;  ridiculed  his  want  of  tact,  his  ignorance 
of  men,  his  visionary  views,  his  impracticabil 
ity.  Indeed,  there  were  times  when  it  almost 
seemed  that  friends  joined  with  foes  to  shear 
Samson's  flowing  hair  while  Samson  was  smit 
ing  the  Philistines.  If  friends  remonstrated  he 
replied,  "  I  am  a  public  servant.  I  am  a  senti 
nel  of  my  country.  I  must  cry  'halt,'  though 
it  be  only  a  shadow  that  passes,  and  not  bring 
my  piece  to  a  rest  until  I  know  who  goes 
there."  It  was  an  ideal  vigilance — an  ideal 
sense  of  duty.  I  grant  it.  He  was  an  ideal 
character.  He  loved  duty  more  than  friend 
ship,  and  he  had  that  supreme  quality  of  man 
hood,  the  power  to  go  alone.  I  am  not  anxious 
to  call  him  a  statesman,  but  he  seems  to  have 
measured  more  accurately  than  others  the  real 
forces  of  his  time.  Miss  Martineau,  in  the 
remarkable  paper  published  at  the  beginning  of 
the  war,  says  that  every  public  man  in  the 
country  with  whom  she  talked,  agreed  that 
silence  upon  slavery  was  the  sole  condition  of 
preserving  the  Union.  SUMXEH  was  the  man 


THE    EULOGY.  167 

who  saw  that  silence  would  make  the  Union 
only  the  stately  tomb  of  liberty ;  and  that 
speech,  constant,  unsparing,  unshrinking — 
speech  ringing  over  a  cowering  land  like  an 
alarm-bell  at  midnight — was  the  only  salvation 
of  the  Union  as  the  home  of  freedom. 

If  now  for  a  moment  we  turn  to  survey  that 
public  career,  extending  over  the  thirty  stormi 
est  years  of  our  history,  the  one  clear,  con 
spicuous  fact  that  appears  in  it,  after  the 
single  devotion  to  one  end,  is  that  Mr.  SUM- 
NEB  lived  to  see  that  end  accomplished.  He 
began  by  urging  the  Whig  party  to  raise  the 
anti-slavery  standard.  It  refused.  He  left  the 
party,  and  presently  it  perished.  He  entered 
the  Senate  denouncing  slavery  in  a  manner 
that  roused  and  strengthened  the  public  mind 
for  the  contest  that  soon  began.  With  the 
first  gun  of  the  war  he  demanded  emancipa 
tion  as  the  way  of  victory-  and  when  victory 
with  emancipation  came,  he  advocated  equal 
suffrage  as  the  security  of  liberty.  What  pub 
lic  man  has  seen  more  glorious  fulfilments  of 
his  aims  and  efforts?  He  did  not,  indeed,  origi 
nate  the  laws  that  enacted  the  results,  but  he 
developed  the  spirit  and  the  conviction  that 


168  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

made  the  results  possible.  William  the  Third 
won  few  battles,  but  he  gained  his  cause; 
Thomas  Jefferson  wrote  the  Declaration,  but 
John  Adams  is  the  hero  of  American  inde 
pendence.  SUMXER  was  more  a  moral  reformer 
than  a  statesman,  and  to  a  surprising  degree 
events  were  his  allies.  But  no  man  of  our 
first  great  period,  not  Otis  or  Patrick  Henry, 
nor  Jefferson  or  Adams,  nor  Hamilton  or  Jay, 
is  surer  of  his  place,  than  in  the  second  great 
period  CHARLES  SUMNER  is  sure  of  his. 

As  his  career  drew  to  an  end,  events  occurred 
without  which  his  life  would  not  have  been 
wholly  complete,  and  the  most  signal  illustra 
tion  of  the  power  of  personal  character  in  poli 
tics  would  have  been  lost.  He  was,  as  I  have 
said,  a  party  man.  Although  always  in  advance, 
and  by  his  genius  a  moral  leader,  he  had  yet 
always  worked  with  and  by  his  party.  But  as 
the  main  objects  of  his  political  activity  were 
virtually  accomplished,  he  came  to  believe  that 
his  party,  reckless  in  absolute  triumph,  was 
ceasing  to  represent  that  high  and  generous 
patriotism  to  which  his  life  was  consecrated, 
that  its  moral  tone  was  sensibly  declining,  that 
it  defended  policies  hostile  to  public  faith  and 


THE   EULOGY.  169 

human  rights,  trusting  leaders  who  should  not 
be  trusted,  and  tolerating  practices  that  honest 
men  should  spurn.  Believing  that  his  party  was 
forfeiting  the  confidence  of  the  country,  he  rea 
soned  with  it  and  appealed  to  it,  as  more  than 
twenty  years  before  he  had  reasoned  with  the 
Whig  party  in  Faneuil  Hall.  His  hope  was  by 
his  speeches  on  the  San  Domingo  treaty  and 
the  French  arms  and  the  Presidential  nomina 
tion  to  shake  what  he  thought  to  be  the  fatal 
apathy  of  the  party,  and  to  stimulate  it  once 
more  to  resume  its  leadership  of  the  conscience 
and  the  patriotism  of  the  country.  It  was  my 
fortune  to  see  him  constantly  and  intimately 
during  those  days,  to  know  the  persuasions  and 
flatteries  lavished  upon  him  to  induce  him  to 
declare  openly  against  the  party,  and  his  resolu 
tion  not  to  leave  it  until  he  had  exhausted 
every  argument  and  prayer,  and  conscience  for 
bade  him  to  remain.  That  summons  came,  in 
his  judgment,  when  a  nomination  was  made 
which  seemed  to  him  the  conclusive  proof  of  a 
fatal  party  infatuation.  "Anything  else,"  he 
said  to  me,  vehemently,  a  hundred  times — "any 
other  candidacy  I  can  support,  and  it  would 
save  the  party  and  the  country."  The  nomina- 

22 


170 


CHARLES    SUMMER. 


tion  was  made.  He  did  not  hesitate.  He  was 
sixty  years  old*  smitten  with  sorrows  that  were 
not  known;  suffering  at  times  acute  agony  from 
the  disease  of  which  he  died;  his  heart  heavy 
with  the  fierce  strife  of  a  generation,  and  longing 
for  repose.  But  the  familiar  challenge  of  duty 
found  him  alert  and  watchful  at  his  post,  and 
he  advanced  without  a  doubt  or  a  fear  to  what 
was  undoubtedly  the  greatest  trial  of  his  life. 

The  anti-slavery  contest,  indeed,  had  closed 
many  a  door  and  many  a  heart  against  him;  it 
had  exposed  him  to  the  sneer,  the  hate,  the 
ridicule,  of  opposition;  it  had  threatened  his  life 
and  assailed  his  person.  But  the  great  issue 
was  clearly  drawn;  his  whole  being  was  stirred 
to  its  depths;  he  was  in  the  bloom  of  youth, 
the  pride  of  strength;  history  and  reason,  the 
human  heart  and  the  human  conscience,  were 
his  immortal  allies,  and  around  him  were  the 
vast,  increasing  hosts  of  liberty;  the  men  whose 
counsels  he  approved;  the  friends  of  his  heart; 
the  multitude  that  thought  him  only  too  eager 
for  unquestionable  right;  the  prayer  of  free  men 
and  women  sustaining,  inspiring,  blessing  him. 
But  here  was  another  scene,  a  far  fiercer  trial. 
His  old  companions  in  the  Free-soil  days,  the 


THE    EULOGY.  171 

great  abolition  leaders,  most  of  his  warmest  per 
sonal  friends,  the  great  body  of  the  party  whom 
his  words  had  inspired,  looked  at  him  with  sor 
rowful  surprise.  Ah!  no  one  who  did  not  know 
that  proud  and  tender  heart,  trusting,  simple, 
almost  credulous  as  that  of  a  boy,  could  know 
how  sore  the  trial  was.  He  stood,  among  his 
oldest  friends,  virtually  alone;  with  inexpressible 
pain  they  parted,  each  to  his  own  duty.  "Are 
you  willing,"  I  said  to  him  one  day,  when  he 
had  passionately  implored  me  to  agree  with  him 
—and  I  should  have  been  unworthy  his  friend 
ship  had  I  been  silent— "is  CHARLES  SUMNER 
willing  at  this  time,  and  in  the  circumstances  of 
to-day,  to  intrust  the  colored  race  in  this  coun 
try,  with  all  their  rights,  their  liberty  newly  won 
and  yet  flexile  and  nascent,  to  a  party,  however 
fair  its  profession,  which  comprises  all  who  have 
hated  and  despised  the  negro?  The  slave  of 
yesterday  in  Alabama,  in  Carolina,  in  Mississippi, 
will  his  heart  leap  with  joy  or  droop  dismayed 
when  he  knows  that  CHARLES  SUMNER  has 
given  his  great  name  as  a  club  to  smite  the 
party  that  gave  him  and  his  children  their 
liberty?"  The  tears  started  to  his  eyes,  that 
good  gray  head  bowed  down,  but  he  answered, 


172  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

sadly,  "I  must  do  my  duty."  And  he  did  it, 
He  saw  the  proud,  triumphant  party  that  he  had 
led  so  often,  men  and  women  whom  his  heart 
loved,  the  trusted  friends  of  a  life,  the  sympathy 
and  confidence  and  admiration  upon  which,  on 
his  great  days  and  after  his  resounding  words, 
he  had  been  joyfully  accustomed  to  lean — he 
saw  all  these  depart,  and  he  turned  to  go  alone 
and  do  his  duty. 

Yet,  great  as  was  his  sorrow,  still  greater,  as 
I  believe,  was  his  content  in  doing  that  duty. 
His  State,  indeed,  could  not  follow  him.  For 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  went  one  way,  and 
Massachusetts  went  the  other.  But  Massachu 
setts  was  as  true  to  her  convictions  of  duty  in 
that  hour  as  he  was  to  his  own.  It  was  her 
profound  belief  that  the  result  he  sought  would 
be  perilous  if  not  fatal  to  the  welfare  of  the 
country.  But  the  inspiring  moral  of  these  events 
is  this,  that  while  deploring  his  judgment  in  this 
single  case,  and  while,  later,  the  Legislature, 
misconceiving  his  noble  and  humane  purpose, 
censured  him  for  the  resolutions  which  the  people 
of  the  State  did  not  understand,  and  which  they 
believed,  most  unjustly  to  him,  to  be  somehow  a 
wrong  to  the  precious  dead,  the  flower  of  a 


THE    EULOGY.  173 

thousand  homes — yet,  despite  all  this,  the  great 
heart  of  Massachusetts  never  swerved  from 
CHARLES  SUMMER.  It  was  grieved  and  amazed, 
and  could  not  forego  its  own  duty  because  he 
saw  another.  But  I  know  that  when  in  that 
year  I  spoke  in  rural  Massachusetts,  whether  in 
public  or  in  private,  to  those  who,  with  me, 
could  not  follow  him,  nothing  that  I  said  was 
heard  with  more  sympathy  and  applause  than 
my  declaration  of  undying  honor  and  gratitude 
to  him.  "I  seem  to  lean  on  the  great  heart  of 
Massachusetts,"  he  said,  in  the  bitterest  hour  of 
the  conflict  of  his  life.  And  it  never  betrayed 
him.  In  that  heart  not  the  least  suspicion  of  a 
mean  or  selfish  motive  ever  clouded  his  image — 
not  a  doubt  of  his  absolute  fidelity  to  his  con 
science  disturbed  its  faith;  and  had  he  died  a 
year  ago,  while  yet  the  censure  of  the  Legisla 
ture  was  unrepealed,  his  body  would  have  been 
received  by  you  with  the  same  aifectionate  rever 
ence;  here,  and  in  Faneuil  Hall,  and  at  the 
State-house,  all  honor  that  boundless  gratitude 
and  admiration  could  lavish  would  have  been 
poured  forth,  and  yonder  in  Mount  Auburn  he 
would  have  been  laid  to  rest  with  the  same 
immense  tenderness  of  sorrow. 


174  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

This  is  the  great  victory,  the  great  lesson, 
the  great  legacy  of  his  life,  that  the  fidelity  of 
a  public  man  to  conscience,  not  to  party,  is 
rewarded  with  the  sincercst  popular  love  and 
confidence.  "What  an  inspiration  to  every  youth 
longing  with  generous  ambition  to  enter  the 
great  arena  of  the  State,  that  he  must  heed  first 
and  always  the  divine  voice  in  his  own  soul,  if 
he  Avould  be  sure  of  the  sweet  voices  of  good 
fame!  Living,  how  SUMNEE  served  us!  and 
dying,  at  this  moment  how  he  serves  us  still! 
In  a  time  when  politics  seem  peculiarly  mean 
and  selfish  and  corrupt,  when  there  is  a  general 
vague  apprehension  that  the  very  moral  founda 
tions  of  the  national  character  are  loosened, 
when  good  men  are  painfully  anxious  to  know 
whether  the  heart  of  the  people  is  hardened, 
CHARLES  SUMMER  dies;  and  the  universality  and 
sincerity  of  sorrow,  such  as  the  death  of  no 
man  left  living  among  us  could  awaken,  show 
how  true,  how  sound,  how  generous,  is  still  the 
heart  of  the  American  people.  This  is  the  dying 
service  of  CHARLES  SUMMER,  a  revelation  which 
inspires  every  American  to  bind  his  shining 
example  as  a  frontlet  between  the  eyes,  and 


THE    EULOGY.  175 

never  again  to   despair  of  the  higher  and  more 
glorious  destiny  of  his  country. 

And  of  that  destiny  what  a  foreshowing  was 
he!  In  that  beautiful  home  at  the  sunny  and 
leafy  corner  of  the  national  city,  where  he  lived 
among  books,  and  pictures,  and  noble  friend 
ships,  and  lofty  thoughts — the  home  to  which 
he  returned  at  the  close  of  each  day  in  the 
Senate,  and  to  which  the  wise  and  good  from 
every  land  naturally  came — how  the  stately,  and 
gracious,  and  all-accomplished  man  seemed  the 
very  personification  of  that  new  union  for  which 
he  had  so  manfully  striven,  and  whose  coming 
his  dying  eyes  beheld — the  union  of  ever  wider 
liberty  and  juster  law,  the  America  of  compre 
hensive  intelligence,  and  of  moral  power!  For 
that  he  stands ;  up  to  that,  his  imperishable 
memory,  like  the  words  of  his  living  lips,  for 
ever  lifts  us — lifts  us  to  his  own  great  faith  in 
America  and  in  man.  Suddenly  from  his  strong 
hand — my  father,  my  father,  the  chariot  of 
Israel,  and  the  horsemen  thereof! — the  banner 
falls.  Be  it  ours  to  grasp  it  and  carry  it  still 
forward,  still  higher  !  Our  work  is  not  his 
work,  but  it  can  be  well  done  only  in  his 
spirit.  And  as  in  the  heroic  legend  of  your 


176  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

western  valley  the  men  of  Hadley,  faltering  in 
the  fierce  shock  of  Indian  battle,  suddenly  saw 
at  their  head  the  lofty  form  of  an  unknown 
captain,  with  white  hair  streaming  on  the  wind, 
by  his  triumphant  mien  strengthening  their 
hearts  and  leading  them  to  victory,  so,  men 
and  women  of  Massachusetts,  of  America,  if  in 
that  national  conflict  already  begun,  as  vast  and 
vital  as  the  struggle  of  his  life,  the  contest 
which  is  beyond  that  of  any  party,  or  policy, 
or  measure — the  contest  for  conscience,  intelli 
gence  and  morality  as  the  supreme  power  in 
our  politics  and  the  sole  salvation  of  America— 
you  should  falter  or  fail,  suddenly  your  hearts 
shall  see  once  more  the  towering  form,  shall 
hear  again  the  inspiring  voice,  shall  be  exalted 
anew  with  the  moral  energy  and  faith  of 
CHARLES  SUMNER,  and  the  victories  of  his 
immortal  example  shall  transcend  the  triumphs 
of  his  life. 


APPENDIX 


23 


EULOGY  BY  CARL  SCHURZ, 

DELIVERED   BY   INVITATION   OF   THE 

CITY  GOVEKNMEET  OF  BOSTON, 

IN   THE 

BOSTON    MUSIC    HALL, 

APKIL    29,    1874. 


EULOGY. 


WHEN  the  news  went  forth,  "CHARLES  SUMNER  is 
dead,"  a  tremor  of  strange  emotion  wras  felt  all  over 
the  land.  It  was  as  if  a  magnificent  star,  a  star 
unlike  all  others,  which  the  living  generation  had  been 
wont  to  behold  fixed  and  immovable  above  their 
heads,  had  all  at  once  disappeared  from  the  sky,  and 
the  people  stared  into  the  great  void  darkened  by  the 
sudden  absence  of  the  familiar  light. 

On  the  16th  of  March  a  funeral  procession  passed 
through  the  streets  of  Boston.  Uncounted  thousands 
of  men,  women  and  children  had  assembled  to  see  it 
pass.  No  uncommon  pageant  had  attracted  them ;  110 
military  parade  with  glittering  uniforms  and  gay  ban 
ners  ;  no  pompous  array  of  dignitaries  in  official  robes ; 
nothing  but  carriages  and  a  hearse  with  a  coffin,  and 
in  it  the  corpse  of  CHARLES  SUMNER.  But  there  they 
stood — a  multitude  immeasurable  to  the  eye,  rich  and 
poor,  white  and  black,  old  and  young — in  grave  and 
mournful  silence,  to  bid  a  last  sad  farewell  to  him 
who  was  being  borne  to  his  grave.  And  every  breeze 
from  every  point  of  the  compass  came  loaded  with  a 
sigh  of  sorrow.  Indeed,  there  was  not  a  city  or  town 
in  this  great  republic  which  would  not  have  sur 
rounded  that  funeral  procession  with  the  same  spectacle 


182  CHARLES    SUMXER. 

of   a   profound   and   universal    sense   of  great  bereave 
ment. 

Was  it  love?  Was  it  gratitude  for  the  services  ren 
dered  to  the  people  ?  Was  it  the  baffled  expectation  of 
greater  service  still  to  come?  Was  it  admiration  of 
his  talents  or  his  virtues  that  inspired  so  general  an 
emotion  of  sorrow? 

He  had  stood  aloof  from  the  multitude ;  the  friend 
ship  of  his  heart  had  been  given  to  but  few ;  to  the 
many  he  had  appeared  distant,  self-satisfied  and  cold. 
His  public  life  had  been  full  of  bitter  conflicts.  No 
man  had  aroused  against  himself  fiercer  animosities. 
Although  warmly  recognized  by  many,  the  public  ser 
vices  of  no  man  had  been  more  acrimoniously  ques 
tioned  by  opponents.  No  statesman's  motives,  qualities 
of  heart  and  mind,  wisdom  and  character,  except  his 
integrity,  had  been  the  subject  of  more  heated  contro 
versy  ;  and  yet,  when  sudden  death  snatched  him  from 
us,  friend  and  foe  bowed  their  heads  alike. 

Every  patriotic  citizen  felt  poorer  than  the  day 
before.  Every  true  American  heart  trembled  with  the 
apprehension  that  the  republic  had  lost  something  it 
could  ill  spare. 

Even  from  far  distant  lands,  across  the  ocean,  voices 
came,  mingling  their  sympathetic  grief  with  our  own. 

When  you,  Mr.  Mayor,  in  the  name  of  the  City 
Government  of  Boston,  invited  me  to  interpret  that 
which  millions  think  and  feel,  I  thanked  you  for  the 
proud  privilege  you  had  conferred  upon  me,  and  the 
invitation  appealed  so  irresistibly  to  my  friendship  for 
the  man  we  had  lost,  that  I  could  not  decline  it. 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHUBZ.  183 

And  yet,  the  thought  struck  me  that  you  might 
have  prepared  a  greater  triumph  to  his  memory,  had 
you  summoned  not  me,  his  friend,  but  one  of  those 
who  had  stood  against  him  in  the  struggles  of  his  life, 
to  bear  testimony  to  CHAKLES  SUMNER'S  virtues. 

There  are  many  among  them  to-day,  to  whose  sense 
of  justice  you  might  have  safely  confided  the  office, 
which  to  me  is  a  task  of  love. 

Here  I  see  his  friends  around  me,  the  friends  of  his 
youth,  of  his  manhood,  of  his  advancing  age ;  among 
them,  men  whose  illustrious  names  are  household  words 
as  far  as  the  English  tongue  is  spoken,  and  far  beyond. 
I  saw  them  standing  round  his  open  grave,  when  it 
received  the  flower-decked  coffin,  mute  sadness  heavily 
clouding  their  brows.  I  understood  their  grief,  for 
nobody  could  share  it  more  than  I. 

In  such  a  presence,  the  temptation  is  great  to  seek 
that  consolation  for  our  loss  which  bereaved  friendship 
finds  in  the  exaltation  of  its  bereavement.  But  not  to 
you  or  me  belonged  this  man  wrhile  he  lived ;  not  to 
you  or  me  belongs  his  memory  now  that  he  is  gone. 
His  deeds,  his  example,  and  his  fame,  he  left  as  a 
legacy  to  the  American  people  and  to  mankind ;  and  it 
is  my  office  to  speak  of  this  inheritance.  I  cannot 
speak  of  it  without  affection.  I  shall  endeavor  to  do 
it  with  justice. 

Among  the  public  characters  of  America,  CHARLES 
SUMNER  stands  peculiar  and  unique.  His  senatorial 
career  is  a  conspicuous  part  of  our  political  history. 
But  in  order  to  appreciate  the  man  in  the  career,  we 
must  look  at  the  story  of  his  life. 


184:  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

The  American  people  take  pride  in  saying  that  almost 
all  their  great  historic  characters  were  self-mac]  e  men, 
who,  without  the  advantages  of  wealth  and  early  oppor 
tunities,  won  their  education,  raised  themselves  to  use 
fulness  and  distinction,  and  achieved  their  greatness 
through  a  rugged  hand-to-hand  struggle  with  adverse 
fortune.  It  is  indeed  so.  A  log  cabin  ;  a  ragged  little 
boy  walking  barefooted  to  a  lowly  country  school-house, 
or  sometimes  no  school-house  at  all; — a  lad,  after  a 
day's  hard  toil  on  the  farm,  or  in  the  workshop,  poring 
greedily,  sometimes  stealthily,  over  a  volume  of  poetry, 
or  history,  or  travels ; — a  forlorn-looking  youth,  with 
elbows  out,  applying  at  a  lawyer's  office  for  an  oppor 
tunity  to  study ; — then  the  young  man  a  successful 
practitioner  attracting  the  notice  of  his  neighbors ; — 
then  a  member  of  a  State  Legislature,  a  representative 
in  Congress,  a  Senator,  maybe  a  Cabinet  Minister,  or 
even  President.  Such  are  the  pictures  presented  by 
many  a  proud  American  biography. 

And  it  is  natural  that  the  American  people  should 
be  proud  of  it,  for  such  a  biography  condenses  in  the 
compass  of  a  single  life  the  great  story  of  the  Ameri 
can  nation,  as  from  the  feebleness  and  misery  of  early 
settlements  in  the  bleak  solitude  it  advanced  to  the 
subjugation  of  the  hostile  forces  of  nature ;  plunged 
into  an  arduous  struggle  with  dangers  and  difficulties 
only  known  to  itself,  gathering  strength  from  every 
conflict  and  experience  from  every  trial ;  with  undaunted 
pluck  widening  the  range  of  its  experiments  and  crea 
tive  action,  until  at  last  it  stands  there  as  one  of  the 
greatest  powers  of  the  earth.  The  people  are  fond  of 


EULOGY  BY  CAUL  SCHURZ.         185 

seeing  their  image    reflected   in   the   lives  of  their  fore- 

o  o 

most  representative  men. 

But  not  such  a  life  was  that  of  CHAKLES  SUMNER. 
He  was  descended  from  good  old  Kentish  yeomanry 
stock,  men  stalwart  of  frame,  stout  of  heart,  who  used 
to  stand  in  the  front  of  the  fierce  battles  of  Old  Eng 
land;  and  the  first  of  the  name  who  came  to  America 
had  certainly  not  been  exempt  from  the  rough  struggles 
of  the  early  settlements.  But  already  from  the  year 
1723  a  long  line  of  Sumners  appears  on  the  records  of 
Harvard  College,  and  it  is  evident  that  the  love  of 
study  had  long  been  hereditary  in  the  family.  Charles 
Pinckney  Sumner,  the  Senator's  father,  was  a  graduate 
of  Harvard,  a  lawyer  by  profession,  for  fourteen  years 
high  sheriff  of  Suffolk  County.  His  literary  tastes  and 
acquirements,  and  his  stately  politeness  are  still  remem 
bered.  He  was  altogether  a  man  of  high  respecta 
bility. 

He  was  not  rich,  but  in  good  circumstances ;  and 
well  able  to  give  his  children  the  best  opportunities 
to  study,  without  working  for  their  daily  bread. 

CHARLES  SUMNER  was  born  in  Boston,  on  the  6th 
of  January,  1811.  At  the  age  of  ten  he  had  received 
his  rudimentary  training ;  at  fifteen,  after  having  gone 
through  the  Boston  Latin  School,  he  entered  Harvard 
College,  and  plunged  at  once  with  fervor  into  the  class 
ics,  polite  literature  and  history.  Graduated  in  1830, 
he  entered  the  Cambridge  Law  School.  Now  life  began 
to  open  to  him.  Judge  Story,  his  most  distinguished 
teacher,  soon  recognized  in  him  a  young  man  of  uncom 
mon  stamp  ;  and  an  intimate  friendship  sprang  up 

24 


186  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

between  teacher  and  pupil,  which  was  severed  only  by 
death. 

He  began  to  distinguish  himself  not  only  by  the  most 
arduous  industry  and  application,  pushing  his  researches 
far  beyond  the  text-books — indeed,  text-books  never  sat 
isfied  him — but  by  a  striking  eagerness  and  faculty  to 
master  the  original  principles  of  the  science,  and  to 
trace  them  through  its  development. 

His  productive  labor  began,  and  I  find  it  stated  that 
already  then,  while  he  was  yet  a  pupil,  his  essays, 
published  in  the  "American  Jurist,"  were  "always  char 
acterized  by  breadth  of  view  and  accuracy  of  learning, 
and  sometimes  by  remarkably  subtle  and  ingenious 
investigations." 

Leaving  the  Law  School  he  entered  the  office  of  a 
lawyer  in  Boston,  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  practice, 
never  much  to  his  taste.  Then  he  visited  Washington 
for  the  first  time,  little  dreaming  what  a  theatre  of 
action,  struggle,  triumph  and  suffering  the  national 
city  was  to  become  for  him ;  for  then  he  came  only 
as  a  studious,  deeply  interested  looker-on,  who  merely 
desired  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  the  justices  and 
practicing  lawyers  at  the  bar  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
He  was  received  with  marked  kindness  by  Chief-Justice 
Marshall,  and  in  later  years  he  loved  to  tell  his  friends 
how  he  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  that  great  magistrate, 
and  learned  there  what  a  judge  should  be. 

Having  been  admitted  to  the  bar  in  Worcester  in 
1834,  when  twenty-three  years  old,  he  opened  an  office 
in  Boston,  was  soon  appointed  reporter  of  the  United 
States  Circuit  Court,  published  three  volumes  con- 


EULOGY   BY    CAKL    SCHUKZ.  187 

taining  Judge  Story's  decisions,  known  as  "  Surnner's 
Reports,"  took  Judge  Story's  place  from  time  to  time 
as  lecturer  in  the  Harvard  Law  School ;  also  Professor 
Greenleaf's,  who  was  absent,  and  edited  during  the 
years  1835  and  1836  Andrew  Dunlap's  Treatise  on 
Admiralty  Practice.  Beyond  this,  his  studies,  ardu 
ous,  incessant  and  thorough,  ranged  far  and  wide. 

Truly  a  studious  and  laborious  young  man,  who  took 
the  business  of  life  earnestly  in  hand,  determined  to 
know  something,  and  to  be  useful  to  his  time  and 
country. 

But  what  he  had  learned  and  could  learn  at  home 
did  not  satisfy  his  craving.  In  1837  he  went  to 
Europe,  armed  with  a  letter  from  Judge  Story's  hand 
to  the  law  magnates  of  England,  to  whom  his  patron 
introduced  him  as  "a  young  lawyer  giving  promise  of 
the  most  eminent  distinction  in  his  profession,  with 
truly  extraordinary  attainments,  literary  and  judicial, 
and  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  purity  and  propriety 
of  character." 

This  was  not  a  mere  complimentary  introduction ;  it 
was  the  conscientious  testimony  of  a  great  judge,  who 
well  knew  his  responsibility,  and  who  afterwards,  when 
his  death  approached,  adding  to  that  testimony,  was 
frequently  heard  to  say,  "I  shall  die  content,  as  far 
as  my  professorship  is  concerned,  if  CHARLES  SUMMER 
is  to  succeed  me." 

In  England,  young  SUMNER,  only  feeling  himself 
standing  on  the  threshold  of  life,  was  received  like  a 
man  of  already  achieved  distinction.  Every  circle  of  a 
society,  ordinarily  so  exclusive,  was  open  to  him. 


188  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

Often,  by  invitation,  he  sat  with  the  judges  in  West 
minster  Hall.  Renowned  statesmen  introduced  him  on 
the  floor  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament.  Eagerly  he  fol 
lowed  the  debates,  and  studied  the  principles  and  prac 
tice  of  parliamentary  law  on  its  maternal  soil,  where 
from  the  first  seed-corn  it  had  grown  up  into  a  mag 
nificent  tree,  in  whose  shadow  a  great  people  can  dwell 
in  secure  enjoyment  of  their  rights.  Scientific  associa 
tions  received  him  as  a  welcome  guest,  and  the  learned 
and  great  willingly  opened  to  his  winning  presence  their 
stores  of  knowledge  and  statesmanship. 

In  France  he  listened  to  the  eminent  men  of  the 
Law  School  in  Paris,  at  the  Sorbonne  and  the.  College 
de  France,  and  with  many  of  the  statesmen  of  that 
country  he  maintained  instructive  intercourse.  In  Italy 
he  gave  himself  up  to  the  charms  of  art,  poetry,  his 
tory  and  classical  literature.  In  Germany  he  enjoyed 
the  conversation  of  Humboldt,  of  Eanke  the  historian, 
of  Hitter  the  geographer,  and  of  the  great  jurists,  Sa- 
vigny,  Thibaut  and  Mittermaier. 

Two  years  after  his  return  the  "London  Quarterly 
Review"  said  of  his  visit  to  England,  "He  presents  in 
his  own  person  a  decisive  proof  that  an  American  gen 
tleman,  without  official  rank  or  wide-spread  reputation, 
by  mere  dint  of  courtesy,  candor,  an  entire  absence  of 
pretension,  an  appreciating  spirit  and  a  cultured  mind, 
may  be  received  011  a  perfect  footing  of  equality  in  the 
best  circles,  social,  political  and  intellectual." 

It  must  have  been  true,  for  it  came  from  a  quarter 
not  given  to  the  habit  of  flattering  Americans  beyond 
their  deserts.  And  CHARLES  SUMNEH  was  not  then  the 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHUEZ.  189 

senator  of  power  and  fame ;  he  was  only  the  young 
son  of  a  late  sheriff  of  Suffolk  County  in  Massachu 
setts,  who  had  neither  riches  nor  station,  but  who  pos 
sessed  that  most  winning  charm  of  youth — purity  of 
soul,  modesty  of  conduct,  culture  of  mind,  an  earnest 
thirst  of  knowledge,  and  a  brow  bearing  the  stamp  of 
noble  manhood  and  the  promise  of  future  achievements. 

He  returned  to  his  native  shores  in  1840,  himself 
like  a  heavily  freighted  ship,  bearing  a  rich  cargo  of 
treasures  collected  in  foreign  lands. 

He  resumed  the  practice  of  law  in  Boston ;  but,  as  I 
find  it  stated,  "not  with  remarkable  success  in  a  finan 
cial  point  of  view."  That  I  readily  believe.  The 
financial  point  of  view  was  never  to  him  a  fruitful 
source  of  inspiration.  Again  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
more  congenial  task  of  teaching  at  the  Cambridge  Law 
School,  and  of  editing  an  American  edition  of  "Vesey's 
Reports,"  in  twenty  volumes,  with  elaborate  notes  con 
tributed  by  himself. 

But  now  the  time  had  come  when  a  new  field  of 
action  was  to  open  itself  to  him.  On  the  4th  of  July, 
1845,  he  delivered  before  the  City  Authorities  of  Bos 
ton,  an  address  on  "The  True  Grandeur  of  Nations." 
So  far  he  had  been  only  a  student — a  deep  and  ardu 
ous  one,  and  a  writer  and  a  teacher,  but  nothing  more. 
On  that  day  his  public  career  commenced.  And  his 
first  public  address  disclosed  at  once  the  peculiar  impulse 
and  inspirations  of  his  heart,  and  the  tendencies  of  his 
mind.  It  was  a  plea  for  universal  peace, — a  poetic  rhap 
sody  on  the  wrongs  and  horrors  of  war  and  the  beauties 
of  concord ;  not,  indeed,  without  solid  argument,  but 


190  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

that  argument  clothed  in  all  the  gorgeousness  of  histori 
cal  illustration,  classic  imagery  and  fervid  effusion,  rising 
high  above  the  level  of  existing  conditions,  and  pictur 
ing  an  ideal  future, — the  universal  reign  of  justice  and 
charity, — not  far  off  to  his  own  imagination,  but  far 
beyond  the  conceptions  of  living  society ;  but  to  that 
society  he  addressed  the  urgent  summons,  to  go  forth  at 
once  in  pursuit  of  this  ideal  consummation  ;  to  trans 
form  all  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  all  war-ships  into 
peaceful  merchantmen,  without  delay  ;  believing  that  thus 
the  nation  would  rise  to  a  greatness  never  known  before, 
which  it  could  accomplish  if  it  only  willed  it. 

And  this  speech  he  delivered  while  the  citizen  soldiery 
of  Boston  in  festive  array  were  standing  before  him, 
and  while  the  very  air  was  stirred  by  the  premonitory 
mutterings  of  an  approaching  war. 

The  whole  man  revealed  himself  in  that  utterance  ;  a 
soul  full  of  the  native  instinct  of  justice ;  an  overpow 
ering  sense  of  right  and  wrong,  which  made  him  look 
at  the  problems  of  human  society  from  the  lofty  plane 
of  an  ideal  morality,  which  fixed  for  him,  high  beyond 
the  existing  condition  of  things,  the  aims  for  which  he 
must  strive,  and  inspired  and  fired  his  ardent  nature  for 
the  struggle.  His  education  had  singularly  favored  and 
developed  that  ideal  tendency.  It  was  not  that  of  the 
self-made  man  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word. 
The  distracting  struggles  for  existence,  the  small,  harass 
ing  cares  of  every-day  life,  had  remained  foreign  to  him. 
His  education  was  that  of  the  favored  few.  He  found 
all  the  avenues  of  knowledge  wide  open  to  him.  All 
that  his  country  could  give  he  had :  the  most  renowned 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHUKZ.  191 

schools  ;  the  living  instruction  of  the  most  elevating  per 
sonal  associations.  It  was  the  education  of  the  typical 
young  English  gentleman.  Like  the  English  gentleman, 
also,  he  travelled  abroad  to  widen  his  mental  horizon. 
And  again,  all  that  foreign  countries  could  give  he  had  : 
the  instruction  of  great  lawyers  and  men  of  science,  the 
teachings  and  example  of  statesmen,  the  charming  atmos 
phere  of  poetry  and  art,  which  graces  and  elevates  the 
soul.  He  had  also  learned  to  work,  to  work  hard  and 
with  a  purpose,  and  at  thirty-four,  when  he  first  appeared 
conspicuously  before  the  people,  he  could  already  point 
to  many  results  of  his  labors. 

But  his  principal  work  had  been  an  eager  accumula 
tion  of  knowledge  in  his  own  mind,  an  accumulation 
most  extraordinary  in  its  scope  and  variety.  His  natural 
inclination  to  search  for  fundamental  principles  and 
truths  had  been  favored  by  his  opportunities,  and  all 
his  industry  in  collecting  knowledge  became  subservient 
to  the  building  up  of  his  ideals.  Having  not  been 
tossed  and  jostled  through  the  school  of  want  and 
adversity,  he  lacked,  what  that  school  is  best  apt  to 
develop, — keen,  practical  instincts,  sharpened  by  early 
struggles,  and  that  sober  appreciation  of  the  realities 
and  possibilities  of  the  times  which  is  forced  upon  men 
by  a  hard  contact  with  the  world.  He  judged  life  from 
the  stillness  of  the  student's  closet  and  from  his  inter 
course  with  the  refined  and  elevated,  and  he  acquired 
little  of  those  experiences  which  might  have  dampened 
his  zeal  in  working  for  his  ideal  aims,  and  staggered 
his  faith  in  their  realization.  His  mind  loved  to  move 
and  operate  in  the  realm  of  ideas,  not  of  things ;  in 


192  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

fact,  it  could  scarcely  have  done  otherwise.  Thus 
nature  and  education  made  him  an  idealist, — and,  indeed, 
he  stands  as  the  most  pronounced  idealist  among  the 
public  men  of  America. 

He  was  an  ardent  friend  of  liberty,  not  like  one  of 
those  who  have  themselves  suffered  oppression  and  felt 
the  galling  weight  of  chains  ;  nor  like  those  who  in  the 
common  walks  of  life  have  experienced  the  comfort  of 
wide  elbow-room  and  the  quickening  and  encouraging 
influence  of  free  institutions  for  the  practical  work  of 
society.  But  to  him  liberty  was  the  ideal  goddess 
clothed  in  sublime  attributes  of  surpassing  beauty  and 
beneficence,  giving  to  every  human  being  his  eter 
nal  rights,  showering  around  her  the  treasures  of  her 
blessings,  and  lifting  up  the  lowly  to  an  ideal  exist 
ence. 

In  the  same  ethereal  light  stood  in  his  mind  the 
Republic,  his  country,  the  law,  the  future  organization 
of  the  great  family  of  nations. 

That  idealism  was  sustained  and  quickened,  not  merely 
by  his  vast  learning  and  classical  inspirations,  but  by 
that  rare  and  exquisite  purity  of  life,  and  high  moral 
sensitiveness,  which  he  had  preserved  intact  and  fresh 
through  all  the  temptations  of  his  youth,  and  which 
remained  intact  and  fresh  down  to  his  last  day. 

Such  was  the  man,  when,  in  the  exuberant  vigor  of 
manhood,  he  entered  public  life.  Until  that  time  he 
had  entertained  no  aspirations  for  a  political  career. 
When  discussing  with  a  friend  of  his  youth, — now  a 
man  of  fame, — what  the  future  might  have  in  store  for 
them,  he  said  :  "  You  may  be  a  Senator  of  the  United 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  193 

States  some  day ;    but  nothing  would   make  me  happier 
than  to  be  President  of  Harvard  College." 

And  in  later  years  he  publicly  declared :  "  With  the 
ample  opportunities  of  private  life  I  was  content.  No 
tombstone  for  me  could  bear  a  fairer  inscription  than 
this:  'Here  lies  one  who,  without  the  honors  or  emol 
uments  of  public  station,  did  something  for  his  fellow- 
men.'"  It  was  the  scholar  who  spoke,  and  no  doubt 
he  spoke  sincerely.  But  he  found  the  slavery  question 
in  his  path ;  or,  rather,  the  slavery  question  seized 
upon  him.  The  advocate  of  universal  peace,  of  the 
eternal  reign  of  justice  and  charity,  could  not  fail  to 
see  in  slavery  the  embodiment  of  universal  war  of  man 
against  man,  of  absolute  injustice  and  oppression.  Little 
knowing  where  the  first  word  would  carry  him,  he  soon, 
found  himself  in  the  midst  of  the  struggle. 

The  idealist  found  a  living  question  to  deal  with, 
which,  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  struck  into  the  very 
depth  of  his  soul,  and  set  it  on  tire.  The  whole  ardor 
of  his  nature  broke  out  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  anti- 
slavery  man.  In  a  series  of  glowing  addresses  and  let 
ters  he  attacked  the  great  wrong.  He  protested  against 
the  Mexican  War ;  he  assailed  with  powerful  strokes 
the  Fugitive  Slave  Law ;  he  attempted  to  draw  the 
Whig  party  into  a  decided  anti-slavery  policy ;  and  when 
that  failed,  he  broke  through  his  party  affiliations,  and 
joined  the  small  band  of  Free-Soilers.  He  was  an  abo 
litionist  by  nature,  but  not  one  of  those  who  rejected  the 
Constitution  as  a  covenant  with  slavery.  His  legal  mind 
found  in  the  Constitution  no  express  recognition  of  sla 
very,  and  he  consistently  construed  it  as  a  warrant  of 

25 


194  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

freedom.  This  placed  him  in  the  ranks  of  those  who 
were  called  "political  abolitionists." 

He  did  not  think  of  the  sacrifices  which  this  obedience 
to  his  moral  impulses  might  cost  him.  For,  at  that 
time,  abolitionism  was  by  no  means  a  fashionable  thing. 
An  anti-slavery  man  was  then,  even  in  Boston,  posi 
tively  the  horror  of  a  large  portion  of  polite  society. 
To  make  anti-slavery  speeches  was  looked  upon,  not 
only  as  an  incendiary,  but  a  vulgar  occupation.  And 
that  the  highly  refined  SUMMER,  who  was  so  learned  and 
able,  who  had  seen  the  world  and  mixed  with  the  high 
est  social  circles  in  Europe ;  who  knew  the  classics  by 
heart,  and  could  deliver  judgment  on  a  picture  or  a 
statue  like  a  veteran  connoisseur ;  who  was  a  favorite 
with  the  wealthy  and  powerful,  and  could,  in  his  aspi 
rations  for  an  easy  and  fitting  position  in  life,  count 
upon  their  whole  influence,  if  he  only  would  not  do  any 
thing  foolish, — that  such  a  man  should  go  among  the  abo 
litionists,  and  not  only  sympathize  with  them,  but  work 
with  them,  and  expose  himself  to  the  chance  of  being 
dragged  through  the  streets  by  vulgar  hands  with  a  rope 
round  his  neck,  like  William  Lloyd  Garrison, — that  was 
a  thing  at  which  the  polite  society  of  that  day  would 
revolt,  and  which  no  man  could  undertake  without  dan 
ger  of  being  severely  dropped.  But  that  was  the  thing 
wilich  the  refined  SUMNER  actually  did,  probably  with- 
out  giving  a  moment's  thought  to  the  possible  conse 
quences. 

He  went  even  so  far  as  openly  to  defy  that  dictator 
ship  which  Daniel  Webster  had  for  so  many  years  been 
exercising  over  the  political  mind  of  Massachusetts,  and 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  195 

which  then  was  about  to  exert  its  power  in  favor  of  a 
compromise  with  slavery. 

But  times  were  changing,  and  only  six  years  after  the 
delivery  of  his  first  popular  address  he  was  elected  to 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States  by  a  combination  of 
Democrats  and  Free-Soilers. 

CHAKLES  SUMNER  entered  the  Senate  on  the  first  day 
of  December,  1851.  He  entered  as  the  successor  of 
Daniel  Webster,  who  had  been  appointed  Secretary  of 
State.  On  that  same  first  of  December  Henry  Clay 
spoke  his  last  word  in  the  Senate,  and  then  left  the 
chamber,  never  to  return. 

A  striking  and  most  significant  coincidence :  Henry 
Clay  disappeared  from  public  life ;  Daniel  Webster  left 
the  Senate,  drawing  near  his  end;  CHARLES  SUMNER 
stepped  upon  the  scene.  The  close  of  one  and  the  set 
ting  in  of  another  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  American 
Republic  were  portrayed  in  the  exit  and  entry  of  these 
men. 

Clay  and  Webster  had  appeared  in  the  councils  of  the 
nation  in  the  early  part  of  this  century.  The  Republic 
was  then  still  in  its  childhood,  in  almost  every  respect 
still  an  untested  experiment,  an  unsolved  problem. 
Slowly  and  painfully  had  it  struggled  through  the  first 
conflicts  of  constitutional  theories,  and  acquired  only 
an  uncertain  degree  of  national  consistency.  There 
were  the  somewhat  unruly  democracies  of  the  States, 
with  their  fresh  revolutionary  reminiscences,  their  in 
stincts  of  entirely  independent  sovereignty,  and  their 
now  and  then  seemingly  divergent  interests ;  and  the 
task  of  binding  them  firmly  together  in  the  bonds  of 


196  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

common  aspirations,  of  national  spirit  and  the  authority 
of  national  law,  had,  indeed,  fairly  progressed,  but  was 
far  from  being  entirely  accomplished.  The  United 
States,  not  yet  compacted  by  the  means  of  rapid  loco 
motion  which  to-day  make  every  inhabitant  of  the  land 
a  neighbor  of  the  national  capital,  were  then  still  a 
straggling  confederacy ;  and  the  members  of  that  con 
federacy  had,  since  the  triumphant  issue  of  the  Revolu 
tion,  more  common  memories  of  severe  trials,  sufferings, 
embarrassments,  dangers  and  anxieties  together,  than  of 
cheering  successes  and  of  assured  prosperity  and  well- 
being. 

The  great  powers  of  the  Old  World,  fiercely  con 
tending  among  themselves  for  the  mastery,  trampled, 
without  remorse,  upon  the  neutral  rights  of  the  young 
and  feeble  Republic.  A  war  was  impending  with  one 
of  them,  bringing  on  disastrous  reverses  and  spreading 
alarm  and  discontent  over  the  land.  A  dark  cloud  of 
financial  difficulty  hung  over  the  nation.  And  the 
danger  from  abroad  and  embarrassments  at  home  were 
heightened  by  a  restless  party  spirit,  which  former  dis 
agreements  had  left  behind  them,  and  which  every 
newly  arising  question  seemed  to  embitter.  The  out 
look  was  dark  and  uncertain.  It  was  under  such  cir 
cumstances  that  Henry  Clay  first,  and  Daniel  Webster 
shortly  after  him,  stepped  upon  the  scene,  and  at  once 
took  their  station  in  the  foremost  rank  of  public  men. 

The  problems  to  be  solved  by  the  statesmen  of  that 
period  were  of  an  eminently  practical  nature.  They 
had  to  establish  the  position  of  the  young  Republic 
among  the  powers  of  the  earth ;  to  make  her  rights  as 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHUKZ.  197 

a  neutral  respected ;  to  secure  the  safety  of  her  mari 
time  interests.  They  had  to  provide  for  national  defence. 
They  had  to  set  the  interior  household  of  the  Republic 
in  working  order. 

They  had  to  find  remedies  for  a  burdensome  public 
debt  and  a  disordered  currency.  They  had  to  invent 
and  originate  policies,  to  bring  to  light  the  resources 
of  the  land,  sleeping  unknown  in  the  virgin  soil ;  to 
open  and  make  accessible  to  the  husbandman  the  wild 
acres  yet  untouched ;  to  protect  the  frontier  settler 
against  the  inroads  of  the  savage ;  to  call  into  full 
activity  the  agricultural,  commercial  and  industrial  ener 
gies  of  the  people ;  to  develop  and  extend  the  prosperity 
of  the  nation  so  as  to  make  even  the  discontented  cease 
to  doubt  that  the  National  Union  was,  and  should  be 
maintained  as,  a  blessing  to  all. 

Thus  we  find  the  statesmanship  of  those  times  busily 
occupied  with  practical  detail  of  foreign  policy,  national 
defence,  financial  policy,  tariffs,  banks,  organization  of 
governmental  departments,  land  policy,  Indian  policy, 
internal  improvements,  settlements  of  disputes  and  diffi 
culties  among  the  States,  contrivances  of  expediency  of 
all  sorts,  to  put  the  Government  firmly  upon  its  feet, 
and  to  set  and  keep  in  orderly  motion  the  working  of 
the  political  machinery,  to  build  up  and  strengthen  and 
secure  the  framework  in  which  the  mighty  develop 
ments  of  the  future  were  to  take  place. 

Such  a  task,  sometimes  small  in  its  details,  but  diffi 
cult  and  grand  in  its  comprehensiveness,  required  that 
creative,  organizing,  building  kind  of  statesmanship, 
which  to  large  and  enlightened  views  of  the  aims  and 


198  CHARLES    SUMNEB. 

ends  of  political  organization  and  of  the  wants  of  society 
must  add  a  practical  knowledge  of  details,  a  skillful 
handling  of  existing  material,  a  just  understanding  of 
causes  and  effects,  the  ability  to  compose  distracting 
conflicts  and  to  bring  the  social  forces  into  fruitful 
co-operation . 

On  this  field  of  action  Clay  and  Webster  stood  in  the 
front  rank  of  an  illustrious  array  of  contemporaries : 
Clay,  the  originator  of  measures  and  policies,  with  his 
inventive  and  organizing  mind,  not  rich  in  profound 
ideas  or  in  knowledge  gathered  by  book-study,  but 
learning  as  he  went ;  quick  in  the  perception  of  exist 
ing  wants  and  difficulties  and  of  the  means  within  reach 

O 

to  satisfy  the  one  and  overcome  the  other ;  and  a  born 
captain  also, — a  commander  of  men,  who  appeared  as 
if  riding  through  the  struggles  of  those  days  mounted 
on  a  splendidly  caparisoned  charger,  sword  in  hand, 
and  with  waving  helmet  and  plume,  leading  the  front; — 
a  fiery  and  truly  magnetic  soul,  overawing  with  his 
frown,  enchanting  with  his  smile,  flourishing  the  weapon 
of  eloquence  like  a  wizard's  wand,  overwhelming  oppo 
sition  and  kindling  and  fanning  the  flame  of  enthusiasm ; 
— a  marshaller  of  parties,  whose  very  presence  and  voice 
like  a  signal-blast  created  and  wielded  organization. 

And  by  his  side  Daniel  Webster,  with  that  awful 
vastness  of  brain,  a  tremendous  storehouse  of  thought 
and  knowledge,  which  gave  forth  its  treasures  with 
ponderous  majesty  of  utterance ;  he  not  an  originator 
of  measures  and  policies,  but  a  mighty  advocate,  the 
greatest  advocate  this  country  ever  knew, — a  king  in 
the  realm  of  intellect,  and  the  solemn  embodiment  of 


EULOGY    BY    CAUL    SCHURZ.  199 

authority, — a  huge  Atlas,  who  carried  the  Constitution 
on  his  shoulders.  He  could  have  carried  there  the 
whole  moral  grandeur  of  the  nation,  had  he  never  com 
promised  his  own. 

Such  men  filled  the  stage  during  that  period  of  con 
struction  and  conservative  national  organization,  devoting 
the  best  efforts  of  their  statesmanship,  the  statesmanship 
of  the  political  mind,  to  the  purpose  of  raising  their 
country  to  greatness  in  wealth  and  power,  of  making 
the  people  proud  of  their  common  nationality,  and  of 
imbedding  the  Union  in  the  contentment  of  prosperity, 
in  enlightened  patriotism,  national  law,  and  constitu 
tional  principle. 

And  when  they  drew  near  their  end,  they  could  boast 
of  many  a  grand  achievement,  not  indeed  exclusively 
their  own,  for  other  powerful  minds  had  their  share  in 
the  work.  The  United  States  stood  there  among  the 
great  powers  of  the  earth,  strong  and  respected.  The 
Republic  had  no  foreign  foe  to  fear ;  its  growth  in 
population  and  wealth,  in  popular  intelligence  and  pro 
gressive  civilization,  the  wonder  of  the  world.  There 
was  no  visible  limit  to  its  development ;  there  seemed 
to  be  no  danger  to  its  integrity. 

But  among  the  problems  which  the  statesmen  of  that 
period  had  grappled  with,  there  was  one  which  had 
eluded  their  grasp.  Many  a  conflict  of  opinion  and 
interest  they  had  succeeded  in  settling,  either  by  positive 
decision,  or  by  judicious  composition.  But  one  conflict 
had  stubbornly  baffled  the  statesmanship  of  expedients, 
for  it  was  more  than  a  mere  conflict  of  opinion  and 


200  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

interest.  It  was  a  conflict  grounded  deep  in  the  moral 
nature  of  men — the  slavery  question. 

Many  a  time  had  it  appeared  on  the  surface  during  the 
period  I  have  described,  threatening  to  overthrow  all 
that  had  been  ingeniously  built  up,  and  to  break  asunder 
all  that  had  been  laboriously  cemented  together.  In 
their  anxiety  to  avert  every  danger  threatening  the 
Union,  they  attempted  to  repress  the  slavery  question 
by  compromise,  and,  apparently,  with  success,  at  least 
for  awhile. 

But  however  firmly  those  compromises  seemed  to 
stand,  there  was  a  force  of  nature  at  work  which,  like  a 
restless  flood,  silently  but  unceasingly  and  irresistibly 
washed  their  foundation  away,  until  at  last  the  towering 
structure  toppled  down. 

The  anti-slavery  movement  is  now  one  of  the  great 
chapters  of  our  past  history.  The  passions  of  the  strug 
gle  having  been  buried  in  thousands  of  graves,  and  the 

O  O  O 

victory  of  Universal  Freedom  standing  as  firm  and 
unquestionable  as  the  eternal  hills,  we  may  now  look 
back  upon  that  history  with  an  impartial  eye.  It  may 
be  hoped  that  even  the  people  of  the  South,  if  they  do 
not  yet  appreciate  the  spirit  which  created  and  guided 
the  anti-slavery  movement,  will  not  much  longer  mis 
understand  it.  Indeed,  they  grievously  misunderstood 
it  at  the  time.  They  looked  upon  it  as  the  offspring 
of  a  wanton  desire  to  meddle  with  other  people's  affairs, 
or  as  the  product  of  hypocritical  selfishness  assuming 
the  mask  and  cant  of  philanthropy,  merely  to  rob  the 
South  and  to  enrich  New  England  ;  or  as  an  insidious 


EULOGY   BY    GAEL    SCHUKZ.  201 

contrivance    of   criminally   reckless    political    ambition, 
t  striving  to  grasp  and  monopolize  power  at  the  risk  of 
destroying  a  part  of  the  country  or  even  the  whole. 

It  Avas,  perhaps,  not  unnatural  that  those  interested  in 
slavery  should  have  thought  so ;  but  from  this  great 
error  arose  their  fatal  miscalculation  as  to  the  peculiar 
strength  of  the  anti-slavery  cause. 

No  idea  ever  agitated  the  popular  mind  to  whose 
origin  calculating  selfishness  was  more  foreign.  Even 
the  great  uprising  which  brought  about  the  War  of  Inde 
pendence  was  less  free  from  selfish  motives,  for  it  sprang 
from  resistance  to  a  tyrannical  abuse  of  the  taxing 
power.  Then  the  people  rose  against  that  oppression 
which  touched  their  property ;  the  anti-slavery  move 
ment  originated  in  an  impulse  purely  moral. 

It  was  the  irresistible  breaking  out  of  a  trouble  of 
conscience, — a  trouble  of  conscience  which  had  already 
disturbed  the  men  who  made  the  American  Republic. 
It  found  a  voice  in  their  anxious  admonitions,  their 
gloomy  prophecies,  their  scrupulous  care  to  exclude 
from  the  Constitution  all  forms  of  expression  which 
might  have  appeared  to  sanction  the  idea  of  property 
in  man. 

It  found  a  voice  in  the  fierce  struggles'  which  resulted 
in  the  Missouri  Compromise.  It  was  repressed  for  a 
time  by  material  interest,  by  the  greed  of  gain,  when 
the  peculiar  product  of  slave  labor  became  one  of  the 
principal  staples  of  the  country  and  a  mine  of  wealth. 
But  the  trouble  of  conscience  raised  its  voice  again, 
shrill  and  defiant  as  when  your  own  John  Quincy  Adams 
stood  in  the  halls  of  Congress,  and  when  devoted  advo- 

26 


202  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

cates  of  the  rights  of  man  began  and  carried  on,  in  the 
face  of  ridicule  and  brutal  persecution,  an  agitation 
seemingly  hopeless.  It  cried  out  again  and  again,  until 
at  last  its  tones  and  echoes  grew  louder  than  all  the 
noises  that  were  to  drown  it. 

The  anti-slavery  movement  found  arrayed  against 
itself  all  the  influences,  all  the  agencies,  all  the  argu 
ments  which  ordinarily  control  the  actions  of  men. 

Commerce  said, — Do  not  disturb  slavery,  for  its  pro 
ducts  fill  our  ships  and  are  one  of  the  principal  means 
of  our  exchanges.  Industry  said, — Do  not  disturb  sla 
very,  for  it  feeds  our  machinery  and  gives  us  markets. 
The  greed  of  wealth  said, — Do  not  disturb  slavery,  for 
it  is  an  inexhaustible  fountain  of  riches.  Political  ambi 
tion  said, — Do  not  disturb  slavery,  for  it  furnishes  us 
combinations  and  compromises  to  keep  parties  alive  and 
to  make  power  the  price  of  shrewd  management.  An 
anxious  statesmanship  said, — Do  not  disturb  slavery,  for 
you  might  break  to  pieces  the  union  of  these  States. 

There  never  was  a  more  formidable  combination  of 
interests  and  influences  than  that  which  confronted  the 
anti-slavery  movement  in  its  earlier  stages.  And  what 
was  its  answer?  "Whether  all  you  say  be  true  or  false, 
it  matters  not,  -but  slavery  is  wrong." 

Slavery  is  wrong !  That  one  word  was  enough.  It 
stood  there  like  a  huge  rock  in  the  sea,  shivering 
to  spray  the  waves  dashing  upon  it.  Interest,  greed, 
argument,  vituperation,  calumny,  ridicule,  persecution, 
patriotic  appeal, — it  was  all  in  vain.  Amidst  all  the 
storm  and  assault  that  one  word  stood  there  unmoved, 
intact  and  impregnable  :  Slavery  is  wrong. 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHUKZ.  203 

Such  was  the  vital  spirit  of  the  anti-slavery  movement 
in  its  early  development.  Such  a  spirit  alone  could 
inspire  that  religious  devotion  which  gave  to  the 
believer  all  the  stubborn  energy  of  fanaticism ;  it  alone 
could  kindle  that  deep  enthusiasm  which  made  men 
willing  to  risk  and  sacrifice  everything  for  a  great 
cause ;  it  alone  could  keep  alive  that  unconquerable 
faith  in  the  certainty  of  ultimate  success  which  boldly 
attempted  to  overcome  seeming  impossibilities. 

It  was  indeed  a  great  spirit,  as,  against  difficulties 
which  threw  pusillanimity  into  despair,  it  painfully 
struggled  into  light,  often  baffled  and  as  often  pressing 
forward  with  devotion  always  fresh ;  nourished  by  noth 
ing  but  a  profound  sense  of  right ;  encouraged  by 
nothing  but  the  cheering  sympathy  of  liberty-loving 
mankind  the  world  over,  and  by  the  hope  that  some 
day  the  conscience  of  the  American  people  would  be 
quickened  by  a  full  understanding  of  the  dangers  which 
the  existence  of  the  great  wrong  would  bring  upon 
the  Republic.  No  scramble  for  the  spoils  of  office  then, 
no  expectation  of  a  speedy  conquest  of  power, — nothing 
but  that  conviction,  that  enthusiasm,  that  faith  in  the 
breasts  of  a  small  band  of  men,  and  the  prospect  of 
new  uncertain  struggles  and  trials. 

At  the  time  when  Mr.  SUMNER  entered  the  Senate, 
the  hope  of  final  victory  appeared  as  distant  as  ever ; 
but  it  only  appeared  so.  The  statesmen  of  the  past 
period  had  just  succeeded  in  building  up  that  compro 
mise  which  admitted  California  as  a  free  State,  and 
imposed  upon  the  Republic  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law. 
That  compromise,  like  all  its  predecessors,  was  consid- 


204  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

ered  and  called  a  final  settlement.  The  two  great  polit 
ical  parties  accepted  it  as  such.  In  whatever  they  might 
differ,  as  to  this  they  solemnly  proclaimed  their  agree 
ment.  Fidelity  to  it  was  looked  upon  as  a  test  of  true 
patriotism,  and  as  a  qualification  necessary  for  the 
possession  of  political  power.  Opposition  to  it  was 
denounced  as  factious,  unpatriotic,  revolutionary  dema 
gog!  sm,  little  short  of  treason.  An  overwhelming 
majority  of  the  American  people  acquiesced  in  it. 
Material  interest  looked  upon  it  with  satisfaction,  as  a 
promise  of  repose  ;  timid  and  sanguine  patriots  greeted 
it  as  a  new  bond  of  union ;  politicians  hailed  it  as  an 
assurance  that  the  fight  for  the  public  plunder  might 
be  carried  on  without  the  disturbing  intrusion  of  a 
moral  principle  in  politics.  But,  deep  down,  men's  con 
science  like  a  volcanic  fire  was  restless,  ready  for  a 
new  outbreak  as  soon  as  the  thin  crust  of  compromise 
should  crack.  And  just  then  the  day  was  fast  approach 
ing  when  the  moral  idea,  which  so  far  had  only  broken 
out  sporadically,  and  moved  small  numbers  of  men 
to  open  action,  should  receive  a  reinforcement  strong 
enough  to  transform  a  forlorn  hope  into  an  army  of 
irresistible  strength.  One  of  those  eternal  laws  which 
govern  the  development  of  human  affairs  asserted  itself, 
—the  law  that  a  great  wrong,  which  has  been  main 
tained  in  defiance  of  the  moral  sense  of  mankind,  must 
finally,  by  the  very  means  and  measures  necessary  for 
its  sustenance,  render  itself  so  insupportable  as  to  insure 
its  downfall  and  destruction. 

So  it  was  with  slavery.     I  candidly  acquit  the  Ameri 
can  slave-power  of  willful  and  wanton  aggression  upon 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  205 

the  liberties  and  general  interests  of  the  American  peo 
ple.  If  slavery  was  to  be  kept  alive  at  all,  its  sup 
porters  could  not  act  otherwise  than  they  did. 

Slavery  could  not  live  and  thrive  in  an  atmosphere 
of  free  inquiry  and  untrammelled  discussion.  There 
fore  free  inquiry  and  discussion  touching  slavery  had 
to  be  suppressed. 

Slavery  could  not  be  secure,  if  slaves,  escaping 
merely  across  a  State  line,  thereby  escaped  the  grasp 
of  their  masters.  Hence  an  effective  Fugitive  Slave 
Law  was  imperatively  demanded. 

Slavery  could  not  protect  its  interests  in  the  Union 
unless  its  power  balanced  that  of  the  free  States  in  the 
national  councils.  Therefore  by  colonization  or  con 
quest  the  number  of  slave  States  had  to  be  augmented. 
Hence  the  annexation  of  Texas,  the  Mexican  war,  and 
intrigues  for  the  acquisition  of  Cuba. 

Slavery  could  not  maintain  the  equilibrium  of  power, 
if  it  permitted  itself  to  be  excluded  from  the  national 
Territories.  Hence  the  breaking  down  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise  and  the  usurpation  in  Kansas. 

Thus  slavery  was  pushed  on  and  on  by  the  inex 
orable  logic  of  its  existence ;  the  slave  masters  were 
only  the  slaves  of  the  necessities  of  slavery,  and  all 
their  seeming  exactions  and  usurpations  were  merely  a 
struggle  for  its  life. 

Many  of  their  demands  had  been  satisfied,  on  the 
part  of  the  North,  by  submission  or  compromise.  The 
Northern  people,  although  with  reluctant  conscience, 
had  acquiesced  in  the  contrivances  of  politicians,  for  the 
sake  of  peace.  But  when  the  slave-power  went  so  far 


206  CHARLES    STJMNER. 

as  to  demand  for  slavery  the  great  domain  of  the  nation 
which  had  been  held  sacred  to  freedom  forever,  then 
the  people  of  the  North  suddenly  understood  that  the 
necessities  of  slavery  demanded  what  they  could  not 
yield.  Then  the  conscience  of  the  masses  was  relieved 
of  the  doubts  and  fears  which  had  held  it  so  long  in 
check ;  their  moral  impulses  were  quickened  by  prac 
tical  perceptions ;  the  moral  idea  became  a  practical 
force,  and  the  final  struggle  began.  It  was  made  inevi 
table  by  the  necessities  of  slavery ;  it  was  indeed  an 
irrepressible  conflict. 

These  things  were  impending  when  Henry  Clay  and 
Daniel  Webster,  the  architects  of  the  last  compromise, 
left  the  Senate.  Had  they,  with  all  their  far-seeing 
statesmanship,  never  understood  this  logic  of  things? 
When  they  made  their  compromises,  did  they  only 
desire  to  postpone  the  final  struggle  until  they  should 
be  gone,  so  that  they  might  not  witness  the  terrible 
concussion?  Or  had  their  great  and  manifold  achieve 
ments  with  the  statesmanship  of  organization  and  expe 
diency  so  deluded  their  minds,  that  they  really  hoped 
a  compromise  which  only  ignored,  but  did  not  settle, 
the  great  moral  question,  could  furnish  an  enduring 
basis  for  future  developments? 

One  thing  they  and  their  contemporaries  had  indeed 
accomplished ;  under  their  care  the  Republic  had  grown 
so  great  and  strong,  its  vitality  had  become  so  tough, 
that  it  could  endure  the  final  struggle  without  falling 
to  pieces  under  its  shocks. 

Whatever  their  errors,  their  delusions,  and,  perhaps, 
their  misgivings  may  have  been,  this  they  had  accom- 


EULOGY   BY   CARL    SCHURZ.  207 

plished ;  and  then  they  left  the  last  compromise  tot 
tering  behind  them,  and  turned  their  faces  to  the  wall 
and  died. 

And  with  them  stepped  into  the  background  the 
statesmanship  of  organization,  expedients  and  compro 
mises  ;  and  to  the  front  came,  ready  for  action,  the 
moral  idea  which  was  to  fight  out  the  great  conflict, 
and  to  open  a  new  epoch  of  American  history. 

That  was  the  historic  significance  of  the  remarkable 
scene  which  showed  us  Henry  Clay  walking  out  of  the 
Senate  Chamber  never  to  return,  when  CHARLES  SUM- 
NER  sat  down  there  as  the  successor  of  Daniel  Webster. 

No  man  could,  in  his  whole  being,  have  more  strik 
ingly  portrayed  that  contrast.  When  CHARLES  SUMNER 
had  been  elected  to  the  Senate,  Theodore  Parker  said 
to  him,  in  a  letter  of  congratulation,  "You  told  me 
once  that  you  were  in  morals,  not  in  politics.  Now  I 
hope  you  will  show  that  you  are  still  in  morals, 
although  in  politics.  I  hope  you  will  be  the  Senator 
with  a  conscience."  That  hope  was  gratified.  He 
always  remained  in  morals  while  in  politics.  He  never 
was  anything  else  but  the  Senator  with  a  conscience. 
CHARLES  SUMMER  entered  the  Senate  not  as  a  mere 
advocate,  but  as  the  very  embodiment  of  the  moral 
idea.  From  this  fountain  flowed  his  highest  aspirations. 
There  had  been  great  anti-slavery  men  in  the  Senate 
before  him ;  they  were  there  with  him,  men  like  Sew- 
ard  and  Chase.  But  they  had  been  trained  -in  a  dif 
ferent  school.  Their  minds  had  ranged  over  other 
political  fields.  They  understood  politics.  He  did  not. 
He  knew  but  one  political  object, — to  combat  and  over- 


208  CHARLES    SUMOT^R, 

throw  the  great  wrong  of  slavery ;  to  serve  the  ideal 
of  the  liberty  and  equality  of  men ;  and  to  establish 
the  universal  reign  of  "peace,  justice  and  charity." 
He  brought  to  the  Senate  a  studious  mind,  vast  learn 
ing,  great  legal  attainments,  a  powerful  eloquence,  a 
strong  and  ardent  nature ;  i\nd  all  this  he  vowed  to 
one  service.  With  all  this  he  was  not  a  mere  expounder 
of  a  policy ;  he  was  a  worshipper,  sincere  and  devout, 
at  the  shrine  of  his  ideal.  In  no  public  man  had  the 
moral  idea  of  the  anti-slavery  movement  more  overrul 
ing  strength.  He  made  everything  yield  to  it.  He  did 
not  possess  it ;  it  possessed  him.  That  was  the  secret 
of  his  peculiar  power. 

He  introduced  himself  into  the  debates  of  the  Senate, 
the  slavery  question  having  been  silenced  forever,  as 
politicians  then  thought,  by  several  speeches  on  other 
subjects, — the  reception  of  Kossuth,  the  Land  Policy, 
Ocean  Postage ;  but  they  were  not  remarkable,  and 
attracted  but  little  attention. 

At  last  he  availed  himself  of  an  appropriation  bill  to 
attack  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  and  at  once  a  spirit 
broke  forth  in  that  first  word  on  the  great  question 
which  startled  every  listener. 

Thus  he  opened  the  argument : — 

"Painfully  convinced  of  the  unutterable  wrong  and 
woe  of  slavery, — profoundly  believing  that  according  to 
the  true  "spirit  of  the  Constitution  and  the  sentiments 
of  the  fathers,  it  can  find  no  place  under  our  National 
Government, — I  could  not  allow  this  session  to  reach 
its  close  without  making  or  seizing  an  opportunity  to 


EULOGY   BY   CARL    SCHUKZ.  209 

declare  myself  openly  against  the  usurpation,  injustice, 
and  cruelty  of  the  late  intolerant  enactment  for  the 
recovery  of  fugitive  slaves." 

Then  this  significant  declaration  : — 

"Whatever  I  am  or  may  be,  I  freely  offer  to  this 
cause.  I  have  never  been  a  politician.  The  slave  of 
principles,  I  call  no  party  master.  By  sentiment,  educa^ 
tion,  and  conviction,  a  friend  of  Human  Eights  in  their 
utmost  expansion,  I  have  ever  most  sincerely  embraced 
the  Democratic  idea — not,  indeed,  as  represented  or 
professed  by  any  party,  but  according  to  its  real  sig 
nificance,  as  transfigured  in  the  Declaration  of  Independ^ 
ence,  and  in  the  injunctions  of  Christianity.  In  this 
idea  I  see  no  narrow  advantage  merely  for  individuals 
or  classes,  but  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  and  the 
greatest  happiness  of  all  secured  by  equal  laws." 

A  vast  array  of  historical  research  and  of  legal  argu 
ment  was  then  called  up  to  prove  the  sectionalism  of 
slavery,  the  nationalism  of  freedom,  and  the  unconsti- 
tutionality  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act,  followed  by  this 
bold  declaration:  "By  the  Supreme  Law,  which  com 
mands  me  to  do  no  injustice,  by  the  comprehensive 
Christian  Law  of  Brotherhood,  by  the  Constitution 
have  sworn  to  support,  I  am  bound  to  disobey  this 
law."  And  the  speech  closed  with  this  solemn  quota 
tion  :  "Beware  of  the  groans  of  wounded  souls,  since 
the  inward  sore  will  at  length  break  out.  Oppress  not 

27 


210  CHARLES    STJMNEB. 

to    the    utmost    a    single  heart;    for  a  solitary  sigh  has 
power  to  overturn  a  whole  world." 

The  amendment  to  the  appropriation  bill  moved  by 
Mr.  SUMNER  received  only  four  votes  of  fifty-one.  But 
every  hearer  had  been  struck  by  the  words  spoken  as 
something  different  from  the  tone  of  other  anti-slavery 
speeches  delivered  in  those  halls.  Southern  Senators, 
startled  at  the  peculiarity  of  the  speech,  called  it, 
in  reply,  "the  most  extraordinary  language  they  had 
ever  listened  to."  Mr.  Chase,  supporting  SUMNER  in 
debate,  spoke  of  it,  "as  marking  a  new  era  in  Amer 
ican  history,  when  the  anti-slavery  idea  ceased  to 
stand  011  the  defensive  and  was  boldly  advancing  to 
the  attack." 

Indeed,  it  had  that  significance.  There  stood  up  in 
the  Senate  a  man  who  was  no  politician;  but  who,  on 
the  highest  field  of  politics,  with  a  concentrated  inten 
sity  of  feeling  and  purpose  never  before  witnessed  there, 
gave  expression  to  a  moral  impulse,  which,  although 
sleeping  perhaps  for  a  time,  certainly  existed  in  the 
popular  conscience,  and  which,  once  become  a  political 
force,  could  not  fail  to  produce  a  great  revolution. 

CHARLES  SUMNER  possessed  all  the  instincts,  the 
courage,  the  firmness  and  the  faith  of  the  devotee  of  a 
great  idea.  In  the  Senate  he  was  a  member  of  a  feeble 
minority,  so  feeble,  indeed,  as  to  be  to  the  ruling  power 
a  mere  subject  of  derision ;  and  for  the  first  three  years 
of  his  service  without  organized  popular  support.  The 
slaveholders  had  been  accustomed  to  put  the  metal  of 
their  Northern  opponents  to  a  variety  of  tests.  Many  a 


EULOGY   BY   CABL    SCIIURZ.  211 

hot  anti-slavery  zeal  had  cooled  under  the  social  bland 
ishments  with  which  the  South  knew  so  well  how  to 
impregnate  the  atmosphere  of  the  national  capital,  and 
many  a  high  courage  had  given  way  before  the  haughty 
assumption  and  fierce  menace  of  Southern  men  in  Con 
gress.  Mr.  SUMNER  had  to  pass  that  ordeal.  He  was 
at  first  petted  and  flattered  by  Southern  society,  but, 
fond  as  he  was  of  the  charms  of  social  intercourse,  and 
accessible  to  demonstrative  appreciation,  no  blandish 
ments  could  touch  his  convictions  of  duty. 

And  when  the  advocates  of  slavery  turned  upon  him 
with  anger  and  menace,  he  hurled  at  them  with  prouder 
defiance  his  answer,  repeating  itself  in  endless  varia 
tions :  "You  must  yield,  for  young  are  wro." 

The  slave-power  had  so  frequently  succeeded  in 
making  the  North  yield  to  its  demands,  even  after  the 
most  formidable  demonstrations  of  reluctance,  that  it 
had  become  a  serious  question  whether  there  existed 
any  such  thing  as  Northern  firmness.  But  it  did  exist, 
and  in  CHARLES  SUMNER  it  had  developed  its  severest 
political  type.  The  stronger  the  assault,  the  higher  rose 
in  him  the  power  of  resistance.  In  him  lived  that  spirit 
which  not  only  would  not  yield,  but  would  turn  upon 
the  assailant.  The  Southern  force,  which  believed  itself 
irresistible,  found  itself  striking  against  a  body  which 
was  immovable.  To  think  of  yielding  to  any  demand 
of  slavery,  of  making  a  compromise  with  it,  in  however 
tempting  a  form,  was,  to  his  nature,  an  absolute  impos 
sibility. 

Mr.  SUMNER'S  courage  was  of  a  peculiar  kind.  He 
attacked  the  slave-power  in  the  most  unsparing  manner, 


212  CHAKLES    SUMMER. 

when  its  supporters  were  most  violent  in  resenting 
opposition,  and  when  that  violence  was  always  apt  to 
proceed  from  words  to  blows.  One  day,  while  SUMNER 
was  delivering  one  of  his  severest  speeches,  Stephen 
A.  Douglas,  walking  up  and  down  behind  the  Presi 
dent's  chair  in  the  old  Senate  Chamber,  and  listening  to 
him,  remarked  to  a  friend:  "Do  you  hear  that  man? 
He  may  be  a  fool,  but  I  tell  you  that  man  has  pluck. 
I  wonder  whether  he  knows  himself  what  he  is  doing. 
I  am  not  sure  whether  I  should  have  the  courage  to 
pay  those  things  to  the  men  who  are  scowling  around 
him." 

Of  all  men  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  SUMNER  was  proba 
bly  least  aware  that  the  thing  he  did  required  pluck.  He 
simply  did  what  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  his  cause  to  do. 
It  was  to  him  a  matter  of  course.  He  was  like  a  soldier 
who,  when  he  has  to  march  upon  the  enemy's  batteries, 
does  not  say  to  himself,  "  Now  I  am  going  to  perform  an 
act  of  heroism,"  but  who  simply  obeys  an  impulse  of 
duty,  and  marches  forward  without  thinking  of  the  bullets 
that  fly  around  his  head.  A  thought  of  the  boldness  of 
what  he  has  done  may  then  occur  to  him  afterwards,  when 
he  is  told  of  it.  This  was  one  of  the  striking  peculiari 
ties  of  Mr.  SUMNER'S  character,  as  all  those  know  who 
knew  him  well. 

Neither  was  he  conscious  of  the  stinging  force  of  the 
language  he  frequently  employed.  He  simply  uttered, 
what  he  felt  to  be  true,  in  language  fitting  the  strength  of 
his  convictions.  The  indignation  of  his  moral  sense  at 
what  he  felt  to  be  wrong  was  so  deep  and  sincere  that  he 
thought  everybody  must  find  the  extreme  severity  of  his 


EULOGY  BY  CAUL  SCHUKZ.         213 

expressions  as  natural  as  they  came  to  his  own  mind. 
And  he  was  not  unfrequently  surprised,  greatly  surprised, 
when  others  found  his  language  offensive. 

As  he  possessed  the  firmness  and  courage,  so  he  pos 
sessed  the  faith  of  the  devotee.  From  the  beginning, 
and  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  anti-slavery  move 
ment,  his  heart  was  profoundly  assured  that  his  genera 
tion  would  see  slavery  entirely  extinguished. 

While  travelling  in  France  to  restore  his  health,  after 
having  been  beaten  down  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate,  he 
visited  Alexis  de  Tocqueville,  the  celebrated  author  of 
"Democracy  in  America."  Tocqueville  expressed  his 
anxiety  about  the  'issue  of  the  anti-slavery  movement, 
which  then  had  suffered  defeat  by  the  election  of  Bu 
chanan.  "There  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  result,"  said 
SUMNER.  "  Slavery  will  soon  succumb  and  disappear." 
"  Disappear !  In  what  way,  and  how  soon  ? "  asked 
Tocqueville.  "In  what  manner  I  cannot  say,"  replied 
SUMNER.  "How  soon  I  cannot  say.  But  it  will  be 
soon;  I  feel  it;  I  know  it.  It  cannot  be  otherwise." 
That  was  all  the  reason  he  gave.  "Mr.  SUMNER  is  a 
remarkable  man,"  said  De  Tocqueville  afterwards  to  a 
friend  of  mine.  "He  says  that  slavery  will  soon  entirely 
disappear  in  the  United  States.  He  does  not  knowr  how, 
he  does  not  know  when ;  but  he  feels  it,  he  is  perfectly 
sure  of  it.  The  man  speaks  like  a  prophet."  And  so  it 
was. 

What  appeared  a  perplexing  puzzle  to  other  men's 
minds  was  perfectly  clear  to  him.  His  method  of  reason 
ing  was  simple ;  it  was  the  reasoning  of  religious  faith. 
Slavery  is  wrong,— therefore  it  must  and  will  perish; 


214  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

freedom  is  right, — therefore  it  must  and  will  prevail. 
And  by  no  power  of  resistance,  by  no  difficulty,  by  no 
disappointment,  by  no  defeat,  could  that  faith  be  shaken. 
For  his  cause,  so  great  and  just,  he  thought  nothing 
impossible,  everything  certain.  And  he  was  unable  to 
understand  how  others  could  fail  to  share  his  faith. 

In  one  sense  he  was  no  party  leader.  He  possessed 
none  of  the  instinct  or  experience  of  the  politician,  nor 
that  sagacity  of  mind  which  appreciates  and  measures 
the  importance  of  changing  circumstances,  or  the  pos 
sibilities  and  opportunities  of  the  day.  He  lacked, 
entirely,  the  genius  of  organization.  He  never  under 
stood,  nor  did  he  value,  the  art  of  strengthening  his 
following  by  timely  concession,  or  prudent  reticence, 
or  advantageous  combination  and  alliance.  He  knew 
nothing  of  management  and  party  manoeuvre.  Indeed, 
not  unfrequently  he  alarmed  many  devoted  friends  of  his 
cause  by  bold  declarations,  for  which,  they  thought,  the 
public  mind  was  not  prepared,  and  by  the  unreserved 
avowal  and  straightforward  advocacy  of  ultimate  objects, 
which,  they  thought,  might  safely  be  left  to  the  natural 
development  of  events.  He  was  not  seldom  accused  of 
doing  things  calculated  to  frighten  the  people  and  to 
disorganize  the  anti-slavery  forces. 

Such  was  his  unequivocal  declaration  in  his  first  great 
anti-slavery  speech  in  the  Senate,  that  he  held  himself 
bound  by  every  conviction  of  justice,  right  and  duty,  to 
disobey  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  and  his  ringing  answer 
to  the  question  put  by  Senator  Butler  of  South  Carolina, 
whether,  without  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  he  would,  under 
the  Constitution,  consider  it  his  duty  to  aid  the  surrender 


EULOGY   BY    CAUL    SCHURZ.  215 

of  fugitive  slaves,  "Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he  should 
do  this  thing?" 

Such  was  his  speech  on  the  "Barbarism  of  Slavery," 
delivered  on  a  bill  to  admit  Kansas  immediately  under 
a  free  State  Constitution ; — a  speech  so  unsparing  and 
vehement  in  the  denunciation  of  slavery  in  all  its  politi 
cal,  moral  and  social  aspects,  and  so  direct  in  its  predic 
tion  of  the  complete  annihilation  of  slavery,  that  it  was 
said  such  a  speech  would  scarcely  aid  the  admission  of 
Kansas. 

Such  was  his  unbending  and  open  resistance  to  any 
plan  of  compromise  calculated  to  preserve  slavery,  when 
after  Mr.  Lincoln's  election  the  Rebellion  first  raised  its 
head,  and  a  large  number  of  Northern  people,  even  anti- 
slavery  men,  frightened  by  the  threatening  prospect  of 
civil  war,  cast  blindly  about  for  a  plan  of  adjustment, 
while  really  no  adjustment  was  possible. 

Such  was,  early  in  the  war,  and  during  its  most  doubt 
ful  hours,  his  declaration,  laid  before  the  Senate  in  a 
series  of  resolutions,  that  the  States  in  rebellion  had 
destroyed  themselves  as  such  by  the  very  act  of  rebellion  ; 
that  slavery,  as  a  creation  of  State  law,  had  perished  with 
the  States,  and  that  general  emancipation  must  imme 
diately  follow, — thus  putting  the  programme  of  emanci 
pation  boldly  in  the  foreground,  at  a  time  when  many 
thought,  that  the  cry  of  union  alone,  union  with  or  with 
out  slavery,  could  hold  together  the  Union  forces. 

Such  was  his  declaration,  demanding  negro  suffrage 
even  before  the  close  of  the  Avar,  while  the  public  opinion 
at  the  North,  whose  aid  the  Government  needed,  still 
recoiled  from  such  a  measure. 


216  CHABLES    SUMNEB. 

Thus  he  was  apt  to  go  rough-shod  over  the  considera 
tions  of  management,  deemed  important  by  his  co-work 
ers.  I  believe  he  never  consulted  with  his  friends 
around  him,  before  doing  those  things,  and  when  they 
afterwards  remonstrated  with  him,  he  ingenuously  asked  : 
"Is  it  not  right  and  true,  what  I  have  said?  And  if  it 
is  right  and  true,  must  I  not  say  it?" 

And  yet,  although  he  had  no  organizing  mind,  and 
despised  management,  he  was  a  leader.  He  was  a 
leader  as  the  embodiment  of  the  moral  idea,  with  all 
its  uncompromising  firmness,  its  unflagging  faith,  its 
daring  devotion.  And  in  this  sense  he  could  be  a 
leader  only  because  he  was  no  politician.  He  forced 
others  to  follow,  because  he  was  himself  impracticable. 
Simply  obeying  his  moral  impulse,  he  dared  to  say 
things  which  in  the  highest  legislative  body  of  the 
Eepublic  nobody  else  would  say;  and  he  proved  that 
they  could  be  said,  and  yet  the  world  would  move  on. 
With  his  wealth  of  learning  and  his  legal  ability,  he 
furnished  an  arsenal  of  arguments,  convincing  more 
timid  souls  that  what  he  said  could  be  sustained  in 
repeating.  And  presently  the  politicians  felt  encour 
aged  to  follow  in  the  direction  where  the  idealist  had 
driven  a  stake  ahead.  Nay,  he  forced  them  to  follow, 
for  they  knew  that  the  idealist,  whom  they  could  not 
venture  to  disown,  would  not  fall  back  at  their  bid 
ding.  Such  was  his  leadership  in  the  struggle  with 
slavery. 

Nor  was  that  leadership  interrupted  when,  on  the 
22d  of  May,  1856,  Preston  Brooks  of  South  Carolina, 
maddened  by  an  arraignment  of  his  State  and  its  Sen- 


EULOGY   BY    GAEL    SCHUIIZ.  217 

ator,  came  upon  CHARLES  SUMKER  in  the  Senate,  struck 
him  down  with  heavy  blows  and  left  him  on  the  ground 
"bleeding  and  insensible.  For  three  years  SUMNER'S 
voice  was  not  heard,  but  his  blood  marked  the  vantage 
ground  from  which  his  party  could  not  recede ;  and  his 
Senatorial  chair,  kept  empty  for  him  by  the  noble  peo 
ple  of  Massachusetts,  stood  there  in  most  eloquent 
silence,  confirming,  sealing,  inflaming  all  he  had  said 
with  terrible  illustration, — a  guide-post  to  the  onward 
march  of  freedom. 

When,  in  1861,  the  Republican  party  had  taken  the 
reins  of  government  in  hand,  his  peculiar  leadership 
entered  upon  a  new  field  of  action.  No  sooner  was 
the  victory  of  the  anti-slavery  cause  in  the  election 
ascertained,  than  the  Rebellion  raised  its  head.  South 
Carolina  opened  the  secession  movement.  The  portent 
ous  shadow  of  an  approaching  civil  war  spread  over 
the  land.  A  tremor  fluttered  through  the  hearts  even 
of  strong  men  in  the  North, — a  vague  fear  such  as  is 
produced  by  the  first  rumbling  of  an  earthquake.  Could 
not  a  bloody  conflict  be  averted?  A  fresh  clamor  for 
compromise  arose.  Even  Republicans  in  Congress  began 
to  waver.  The  proposed  compromise  involved  new  and 
express  constitutional  recognitions  of  the  existence  and 
rights  of  slavery,  and  guarantees  against  interference 
with  it  by  constitutional  amendment  or  national  law. 
The  pressure  from  the  country,  even  from  Massachu 
setts,  in  favor  of  the  scheme,  was  extraordinary,  but  a 
majority  of  the  anti-slavery  men  in  the  Senate,  in  their 
front  Mr.  SUMKER,  stood  firm,  feeling  that  a  compro 
mise,  giving  express  constitutional  sanction  and  an  indefi- 

28 


218  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

nite  lease  of  life  to  slavery,  would  be  a  surrender,  and 
knowing,  also,  that  even  by  the  offer  of  such  a  sur 
render,  secession  and  civil  war  would  still  be  insisted 
on  by  the  Southern  leaders.  The  history  of  those  days, 
as  we  now  know  it,  confirms  the  accuracy  of  that  judg 
ment.  The  war  was  inevitable.  Thus  the  anti-slavery 
cause  escaped  a  useless  humiliation,  and  retained  intact 
its  moral  force  for  future  action. 

But  now  the  time  had  come  when  the  anti-slavery 
movement,  no  longer  a  mere  opposition  to  the  demands 
of  the  slave-power,  was  to  proceed  to  positive  action. 
The  war  had  scarcely  commenced  in  earnest,  when  Mr. 
SUMNER  urged  general  emancipation.  Only  the  great 
ideal  object  of  the  liberty  of  all  men  could  give  sanc 
tion  to  a  war  in  the  eyes  of  the  devotee  of  universal 
peace.  To  the  end  of  stamping  upon  the  war  the  char 
acter  of  a  war  of  emancipation  all  his  energies  were 
bent.  His  unreserved  and  emphatic  utterances  alarmed 
the  politicians.  Our  armies  suffered  disaster  upon  dis 
aster  in  the  field.  The  managing  mind  insisted  that 
care  must  be  taken,  by  nourishing  the  popular  enthu 
siasm  for  the  integrity  of  the  Union, — the  strictly 
national  idea  alone, — to  unite  all  the  social  and  politi 
cal  elements  of  the  North  for  the  struggle ;  and  that  so 
bold  a  measure  as  immediate  emancipation  might  reani 
mate  old  dissensions,  and  put  hearty  co-operation  in 
jeopardy. 

But  Mr.  SUMNEH'S  convictions  could  not  be  repressed. 
In  a  bold  decree  of  universal  liberty  he  saw  only  a 
new  source  of  inspiration  and  strength.  Nor  was  his 
impulsive  instinct  unsupported  by  good  reason.  The 


EULOGY   BY    CAKL    SCHURZ.  219 

distraction  produced  in  the  North  by  an  emancipation 
measure  could  only  be  of  short  duration.  The  moral 
spirit  was  certain,  ultimately,  to  gain  the  upper  hand. 

But  in  another  direction  a  bold  and  unequivocal 
anti-slavery  policy  could  not  fail  to  produce  most 
salutary  effects.  One  of  the  dangers  threatening  us  was 
foreign  interference.  No  European  powers  gave  us  their 
expressed  s}rmpathy  except  Germany  and  Eussia.  The 
governing  classes  of  England,  with  conspicuous  indi 
vidual  exceptions,  always  gratefully  to  be  remembered, 
were  ill-disposed  towards  the  Union  cause.  The  per 
manent  disruption  of  the  Republic  was  loudly  predicted, 
as  if  it  were  desired,  and  intervention — an  intervention 
which  could  be  only  in  favor  of  the  South — was  openly 
spoken  of.  The  Emperor  of  the  French,  who  availed 
himself  of  our  embarrassments  to  execute  his  ambitious 
designs  in  Mexico,  was  animated  by  sentiments  no  less 
hostile.  It  appeared  as  if  only  a  plausible  opportunity 
h^d  been  wanting,  to  bring  foreign  intervention  upon 
our  heads.  A  threatening  spirit,  disarmed  only  by 
timely  prudence,  had  manifested  itself  in  the  Trent  case. 
It  seemed  doubtful  whether  the  most  skillful  diplomacy, 
unaided  by  a  stronger  force,  would  be  able  to  avert  the 
danger. 

But  the  greatest  strength  of  the  anti-slavery  cause 
had  always  been  in  the  conscience  of  mankind.  There 
was  our  natural  ally.  The  cause  of  slavery  as  such 
could  have  no  open  sympathy  among  the  nations  of 
Europe.  It  stood  condemned  by  the  moral  sentiment 
of  the  civilized  world.  How  could  any  European  gov- 


220  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

eminent,  in  the  face  of  that  universal  sentiment,  under 
take  openly  to  interfere  against  a  power  waging  war 
against  slavery  ?  Surely,  that  could  not  be  thought  of. 

But  had  the  Government  of  the  United  States  distinctly 
professed  that  it  was  waging  war  against  slavery,  and 
for  freedom?  Had  it  not  been  officially  declared  that 
the  war  for  the  Union  would  not  alter  the  condition  of 
a  single  human  being  in  America?  Why  then  not 
arrest  the  useless  effusion  of  blood ;  why  not,  by  inter 
vention,  stop  a  destructive  war,  in  which,  confessedly, 
slavery  and  freedom  were  not  at  stake?  Such  were  the 
arguments  of  our  enemies  in  Europe ;  and  they  were 
not  without  color. 

It  was  obvious  that  nothing  but  a  measure  impressing 
beyond  dispute  upon  our  war  a  decided  anti-slavery 
character,  making  it  in  profession  what  it  was  inevitably 
destined  to  be  in  fact,  a  war  of  emancipation, — could 
enlist  on  our  side  the  enlightened  public  opinion  of  the 
Old  World  so  strongly  as  to  restrain  the  hostile  spirit 
of  foreign  governments.  No  European  government 
could  well  venture  to  interfere  against  those  who  had 
convinced  the  world  that  they  were  fighting  to  give 
freedom  to  the  slaves  of  North  America. 

Thus  the  moral  instinct  did  not  err.  The  emancipa 
tion  policy  was  not  only  the  policy  of  principle,  but 
also  the  policy  of  safety.  Mr.  SUMNER  urged  it  with 
impetuous  and  unflagging  zeal.  In  the  Senate  he  found 
but  little  encouragement.  The  resolutions  he  introduced 
in  February,  1862,  declaring  State  suicide  as  the  con 
sequence  of  Rebellion,  and  the  extinction  of  slavery  in 


EULOGY  BY  CAKL  SCHUEZ.         221 

the  insurrectionary  States  as  the  consequence  of  State 
suicide,  were  looked  upon  as  an  ill-timed  and  hazardous 
demonstration,  disturbing  all  ideas  of  management. 

To  the  President,  then,  he  devoted  his  efforts. 
Nothing  could  be  more  interesting,  nay,  touching,  than 
the  peculiar  relations  that  sprung  up  between  Abraham 
Lincoln  and  CHARLES  SUMNER.  No  two  men  could  be 
more  alike  as  to  their  moral  impulses  and  ultimate 
aims ;  no  two  men  more  unlike  in  their  methods  of 
reasoning  and  their  judgment  of  means. 

Abraham  Lincoln  was  a  true  child  of  the  people. 
There  was  in  his  heart  an  inexhaustible  fountain  of 
tenderness,  and  from  it  sprung  that  longing  to  be  true, 
just  and  merciful  to  all,  which  made  the  people  love 
him.  In  the  deep, '  large  humanity  of  his  soul  had 
grown  his  moral  and  political  principles,  to  which  he 
clung  with  the  fidelity  of  an  honest  nature,  and  which 
he  defended  with  the  strength  of  a  vigorous  mind. 

But  he  had  not  grown  great  in  any  high  school  of 
statesmanship.  He  had,  from  the  humblest  beginnings, 
slowly  and  laboriously  worked  himself  up,  or  rather  he 
had  gradually  risen  up  without  being  aware  of  it,  and 
suddenly  he  found  himself  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the 
distinguished  men  of  the  land.  In  his  youth  and  early 
manhood  he  had  achieved  no  striking  successes  that 
might  have  imparted  to  him  that  overweening  self- 
appreciation  which  so  frequently  leads  self-made  men 
to  overestimate  their  faculties,  and  to  ignore  the  limits 
of  their  strength.  He  was  not  a  learned  man,  but  he 
had  learned  and  meditated  enough  to  feel  how  much 
there  wras  still  for  him  to  learn.  His  marvellous  sue- 


222  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

cess  in  his  riper  years  left  intact  the  inborn  modesty 
of  his  nature.  He  was  absolutely  without  pretension. 
His  simplicity,  which  by  its  genuineness  extorted 
respect  and  affection,  was  wonderfully  persuasive,  and 
sometimes  deeply  pathetic  and  strikingly  brilliant. 

His  natural  gifts  were  great;  he  possessed  a  clear 
and  penetrating  mind,  but  in  forming  his  opinions  on 
subjects  of  importance,  he  was  so  careful,  conscientious 
and  diffident,  that  he  would  always  hear  and  probe 
what  opponents  had  to  say,  before  he  became  firmly 
satisfied  of  the  justness  of  his  own  conclusions, — not 
as  if  he  had  been  easily  controlled  and  led  by  other 
men,  for  he  had  a  will  of  his  own ; — but  his  mental 
operations  were  slow  and  hesitating,  and  inapt  to 
conceive  quick  resolutions.  He~  lacked  self-reliance. 
Nobody  felt  more  than  he  the  awful  weight  of  his 
responsibilities.  He  was  not  one  of  those  bold  reform 
ers  who  will  defy  the  opposition  of  the  world,  and 
undertake  to  impose  their  opinions  and  will  upon  a 
reluctant  age.  With  careful  consideration  of  the  pos 
sibilities  of  the  hour  he  advanced  slowly,  but  when  he 
had  so  advanced,  he  planted  his  foot  with  firmness,  and 
no  power  was  strong  enough  to  force  him  to  a  back 
ward  step.  And  every  day  of  great  responsibility 
enlarged  the  horizon  of  his  mind,  and  every  day  he 
grasped  the  helm  of  affairs  with  a  steadier  hand. 

It  was  to  such  a  man  that  SUMNER,  during  the  most 
doubtful  days  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  addressed  his 
appeals  for  immediate  emancipation, — appeals  impetuous 
and  impatient,  as  they  could  spring  only  from  his  ardent 
and  overruling  convictions. 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHUKZ.  223 

The  President  at  first  passively  resisted  the  vehement 
counsel  of  the  Senator,  but  he  bade  the  counsellor 
welcome.  It  was  Mr.  Lincoln's  constant  endeavor  to 
surround  himself  with  the  best  and  ablest  men  of  the 
country.  Not  only  did  the  first  names  of  the  Republican 
party  appear  in  his  Cabinet,  but  every  able  man  in 
Congress  was  always  invited  as  an  adviser,  whether  his 
views  agreed  with  those  of  the  President  or  not.  But 
Mr.  SUMNER  he  treated  as  a  favorite  counsellor,  almost 
like  a  Minister  of  State,  outside  of  the  Cabinet. 

There  were  statesmen  around  the  President  who  were 
also  politicians,  understanding  the  art  of  management. 
Mr.  Lincoln  appreciated  the  value  of  their  advice  as  to 
what  was  prudent  and  practicable.  But  he  knew  also 
how  to  discriminate.  In  Mr.  SUMNER  he  saw  a  coun 
sellor  who  was  110  politician,  but  who  stood  before  him 
as  the  true  representative  of  the  moral  earnestness,  of 
the  great  inspirations  of  their  common  cause.  From  him 
he  heard  what  was  right,  and  necessary  and  inevitable. 
By  the  former  he  was  told  what,  in  their  opinion,  could 
prudently  and  safely  be  done.  Having  heard  them  both, 
Abraham  Lincoln  counselled  with  himself,  and  formed 
his  resolution.  Thus  Mr.  Lincoln,  while  scarcely  ever 
fully  and  speedily  following  SUMNER'S  advice,  never 
ceased  to  ask  for  it,  for  he  knew  its  significance.  And 
SUMMER,  while  almost  always  dissatisfied  with  Lincoln's 
cautious  hesitation,  never  grew  weary  in  giving  his 
advice,  for  he  never  distrusted  Lincoln's  fidelity. 
Always  agreed  as  to  the  ultimate  end,  they  almost 
always  differed  as  to  times  and  means ;  but,  while  differ 
ing,  they  firmly  trusted,  for  they  understood  one  another. 


224  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

And  thus  their  mutual  respect  grew  into  an  affectionate 
friendship,  which  no  clash  of  disagreeing  opinions  could 
break.  SUMNER  loved  to  tell  his  friends,  after  Lincoln's 
death, — and  I  heard  him  relate  it  often,  never  without  an 
expression  of  tenderness, — how  at  one  time  those  who 
disliked  and  feared  his  intimacy  with  the  President,  and 
desired  to  see  it  disrupted,  thought  it  was  irreparably 
broken.  It  was  at  the  close  of  Lincoln's  first  adminis 
tration,  in  1865,  when  the  President  had  proposed  cer 
tain  measures  of  reconstruction,  touching  the  State  of 
Louisiana. 

The  end  of  the  session  of  Congress  was  near  at  hand, 
and  the  success  of  the  bill  depended  on  a  vote  of  the 
Senate  before  the  hour  of  adjournment  on  the  4th  of 
March.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  the  measure  very  much  at 
heart.  But  SUMNER  opposed  it,  because  it  did  not  con 
tain  sufficient  guarantees  for  the  rights  of  the  colored 
people,  and  by  a  parliamentary  manoeuvre,  simply  con 
suming  time  until  the  adjournment  came,  he  with  two  or 
three  other  Senators  succeeded  in  defeating  it.  Lincoln 
was  reported  to  be  deeply  chagrined  at  SUMNER'S  action, 
and  the  newspapers  already  announced  that  the  breach 
between  Lincoln  and  SUMNER  was  complete,  and  could 
not  be  healed.  But  those  who  said  so  did  not  know 
the  men.  On  the  night  of  the  6th  of  March,  two  days 
after  Lincoln's  second  inauguration,  the  customary  inau 
guration  ball  was  to  take  place.  SUMNER  did  not  think 
of  attending  it.  But  towards  evening  he  received  a 
card  from  the  President,  which  read  thus:  "Dear  Mr. 
SUMNER,  unless  you  send  me  word  to  the  contrary,  I 
shall  this  evening  call  with  my  carriage  at  your  house, 


EULOGY   BY    CAUL    SCHURZ.  225 

to  take  you  with  me  to  the  inauguration  ball.  Sin 
cerely  yours,  ABKAHAM  LINCOLN."  Mr.  SUMNER,  deeply 
touched,  at  once  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to  an  inau 
guration  ball  for  the  first  time.  Soon  the  carriage 
arrived,  the  President  invited  SUMNER  to  take  a  seat  in 
it  with  him,  and  SUMNER  found  there  Mrs.  Lincoln  and 
Mr.  Colfax,  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representa 
tives.  Arrived  at  the  ball-room,  the  President  asked 
Mr.  SUMNER  to  offer  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Lincoln;  and  the 
astonished  spectators,  who  had  been  made  to  believe 
that  the  breach  between  Lincoln  and  SUMNER  was  irrep 
arable,  beheld  the  President's  wife  on  the  arm  of  the 
Senator,  and  the  Senator,  on  that  occasion  of  state, 
invited  to  take  the  seat  of  honor  by  the  President's  side. 
Not  a  word  passed  between  them  about  their  disagree 
ment. 

The  world  became  convinced  that  such  a  friendship 
between  such  men  could  not  be  broken  by  a  mere 
honest  difference  of  opinion.  Abraham  Lincoln,  a  man 
of  sincere  and  profound  convictions  himself,  esteemed 
and  honored  sincere  and  profound  convictions  in  others., 
It  was  thus  that  Abraham  Lincoln  composed  his  quar 
rels  with  his  friends,  and  at  his  bedside,  when  he  died, 
there  was  no  mourner  more  deeply  afflicted  than 
CHARLES  SUMNER. 

Let  me  return  to  the  year  1862.  Long,  incessant  and 
arduous  was  SUMNER'S  labor  for  emancipation.  At  last 
the  great  Proclamation,  which  sealed  the  fate  of  slavery, 
came,  and  no  man  had  done  more  to  bring  it  forth 
than  he. 

Still,    CHARLES    SUMNER  thought   his    work   far   from 

'29 


226  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

accomplished.  During  the  three  years  of  war  that  fol 
lowed,  so  full  of  vicissitudes,  alarms  and  anxieties,  he 
stood  in  the  Senate  and  in  the  President's  closet  as  the 
ever-watchful  sentinel  of  freedom  and  equal  rights.  No 
occasion  eluded  his  grasp  to  push  on  the  destruction  of 
slavery,  not  only  by  SAveeping  decrees,  but  in  detail, 
by  pursuing  it,  as  with  a  probing-iron,  into  every  nook 
and  corner  of  its  existence.  It  wTas  his  sleepless  care 
that  every  blow  struck  at  the  Rebellion  should  surely 
and  heavily  tell  against  slavery,  and  that  every  drop  of 
American  blood  that  was  shed  should  surely  be  conse 
crated  to  human  freedom.  He  could  not  rest  until 
assurance  was  made  doubly  sure,  and  I  doubt  whether 
our  legislative  history  shows  an  example  of  equal  watch 
fulness,  fidelity  and  devotion  to  a  great  object.  Such 
was  the  character  of  Mr.  SUMNER'S  legislative  activity 
during  the  war. 

As  the  Rebellion  succumbed,  new  problems  arose. 
To  set  upon  their  feet  again  States  disorganized  by 
insurrection  and  civil  war ;  to  remodel  a  society  which 
had  been  lifted  out  of  its  ancient  hinges  by  the  sudden 
change  of  its  system  of  labor ;  to  protect  the  eman 
cipated  slaves  against  the  old  pretension  of  absolute 
control  on  the  part  of  their  former  masters ;  to  guard 
society  against  the  possible  transgressions  of  a  large 
multitude  long  held  in  slavery  and  ignorance  and  now 
suddenly  set  free  ;  so  to  lodge  political  power  in  this 
inflammable  state  of  things  as  to  prevent  violent  reac 
tions  and  hostile  collisions  ;  to  lead  social  forces  so  dis 
cordant  into  orderly  and  fruitful  co-operation,  and  to 
infuse  into  communities,  but  recently  rent  by  the  most 


EULOGY  BY  CARL  SCHURZ.         227 

violent  passions,  a  new  spirit  of  loyal  attachment  to  a 
common  nationality, — this  was  certainly  one  of  the  most 
perplexing  tasks  ever  imposed  upon  the  statesmanship 
of  any  time  and  any  country. 

But  to  Mr.  SUMNER'S  mind  the  problem  of  recon 
struction  did  not  appear  perplexing  at  all.  Believing, 
as  he  always  did,  that  the  Democratic  idea,  as  he 
found  it  defined  in  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
"  Human  rights  in  their  utmost  expansion,"  contained 
an  ultimately  certain  solution  of  all  difficulties,  he  saw 
the  principal  aim  to  be  reached  by  any  reconstruction 
policy,  in  the  investment  of  the  emancipated  slaves 
with  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of  American  citizen 
ship.  The  complexity  of  the  problem,  the  hazardous 
character  of  the  experiment,  never  troubled  him.  And 
as,  early  in  the  war,  he  had  for  himself  laid  down 
the  theory  that,  by  the  very  act  of  rebellion,  the  insur 
rectionary  States  had  destroyed  themselves  as  such,  so 
he  argued  now,  with  assured  consistency,  that  those 
States  had  relapsed  into  a  territorial  condition ;  that 
the  National  Government  had  to  fill  the  void  by  crea 
tions  of  its  own,  and  that  in  doing  so  the  establish 
ment  of  universal  suffrage  there  was  an  unavoidable 
necessity.  Thus  he  marched  forward  to  the  realization 
of  his  ideal,  on  the  straightest  line,  and  with  the  firm 
ness  of  profound  conviction. 

In  the  discussions  which  followed,  he  had  the  advan 
tage  of  a  man  who  knows  exactly  what  he  wants,  and 
who  is  imperturbably,  religiously  convinced  that  he  is 
right.  But  his  constitutional  theory,  as  well  as  the 
measures  he  proposed,  found  little  favor  in  Congress. 


228  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

The  public  mind  struggled  long  against  the  results  he 
had  pointed  out  as  inevitable.  The  whole  power  of 
President  Johnson's  administration  was  employed  to 
lead  the  development  of  things  in  another  direction. 
But  through  all  the  vacillations  of  public  opinion, 
through  all  the  perplexities  in  which  Congress  entangled 
itself,  the  very  necessity  of  things  seemed  to  press 
toward  the  ends  which  SUMNER  and  those  who  thought 
like  him  had  advocated  from  the  beginning. 

At  last,  Mr.  SUMNER  saw  the  fondest  dreams  of  his 
life  realized.  Slavery  was  forever  blotted  out  in  this 
Republic  by  the  13th  Amendment  to  the  Constitution. 
By  the  14th  the  emancipated  slaves  were  secured  in 
their  rights  of  citizenship  before  the  law,  and  the  15th 
guaranteed  to  them  the  right  to  vote. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  most  astonishing,  a  marvellous  con 
summation.  What  ten  years  before  not  even  the  most 
sanguine  would  have  ventured  to  anticipate,  what  only 
the  profound  faith  of  the  devotee  could  believe  pos 
sible,  was  done.  And  no  man  had  a  better  right  than 
CHARLES  SUMNER  to  claim  for  himself  a  pre-eminent 
share  in  that  great  consummation.  He  had,  indeed, 
not  been  the  originator  of  most  of  the  practical  meas 
ures  of  legislation  by  which  such  results  were  reached. 
He  had  even  combated  some  of  them  as  in  conflict 
with  his  theories.  He  did  not  possess  the  peculiar  abil 
ity  of  constructing  policies  in  detail,  of  taking  account 
of  existing  circumstances  and  advantage  of  opportuni 
ties.  But  he  had  resolutely  marched  ahead  of  public 
opinion  in  marking  the  ends  to  be  reached.  Nobody 
had  done  more  to  inspire  and  strengthen  the  moral  spirit 


EULOGY  BY  CARL  SCHURZ.         229 

of  the  anti-slavery  cause.  He  stood  foremost  among 
the  propelling,  driving  forces  which  pushed  on  the 
great  work  with  undaunted  courage,  untiring  effort, 
irresistible  energy  and  religious  devotion.  No  man's 
singleness  of  purpose,  fidelity  and  faith  surpassed  his, 
and  when  by  future  generations  the  names  are  called 
which  are  inseparably  united  with  the  deliverance  of 
the  American  Kepublic  from  slavery,  no  name  will  be 
called  before  his  own. 

While  the  championship  of  human  rights  is  his  first 
title  to  fame,  I  should  be  unjust  to  his  merit,  did  I  omit 
to  mention  the  services  he  rendered  on  another  field  of 
action.  When,  in  1861,  the  secession  of  the  Southern 
States  left  the  anti-slavery  party  in  the  majority  in  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States,  CHARLES  SUMNER  was 
placed  as  chairman  at  the  head  of  the  Committee  on 
Foreign  Relations.  It  was  a  high  distinction,  and  no 
selection  could  have  been  more  fortunate.  Without  be 
littling  others,  it  may  be  said  that  of  the  many  able  men 
then  and  since  in  the  Senate,  Mr.  SUMNER  was  by  far  the 
fittest  for  that  responsible  position.  He  had  ever  since 
his  college  days  made  international  law  a  special  and 
favorite  study,  and  was  perfectly  familiar  with  its  prin 
ciples,  the  history  of  its  development,  and  its  literature. 
Nothing  of  importance  had  ever  been  published  on  that 
subject  in  any  language  that  had  escaped  his  attention. 
His  knowledge  of  history  was  uncommonly  extensive 
and  accurate;  all  the  leading  international  law  cases, 
with  their  incidents  in  detail,  their  theories  and  settle 
ments,  he  had  at  his  fingers'  ends ;  and  to  his  last  day 
he  remained  indefatigable  in  inquiry.  Moreover,  he 


230  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

had  seen  the  world ;  he  had  studied  the  institutions 
and  policies  of  foreign  countries,  on  their  own  soil, 
aided  by  his  personal  intercourse  with  many  of  their 
leading  statesmen,  not  a  few  of  whom  remained  in 
friendly  correspondence  with  him  ever  since  their  first 
acquaintance. 

No  public  man  had  a  higher  appreciation  of  the 
position,  dignity,  and  interests  of  his  own  country, 
and  no  one  was  less  liable  than  he  to  be  carried  away 
or  driven  to  hasty  and  ill-considered  steps,  by  excited 
popular  clamor.  He  was  ever  strenuous  in  asserting 
our  own  rights,  while  his  sense  of  justice  did  not  per 
mit  him  to  be  regardless  of  the  rights  of  other  nations. 
His  abhorrence  of  the  barbarities  of  war,  and  his  ardent 
love  of  peace,  led  him  earnestly  to  seek  for  every  inter 
national  difference  a  peaceable  solution ;  and  where  no 
settlement  could  be  reached  by  the  direct  negotiations 
of  diplomacy,  the  idea  of  arbitration  was  always  upper 
most  in  his  mind.  He  desired  to  raise  the  Republic 
to  the  high  office  of  a  missionary  of  peace  and  civiliza 
tion  in  the  world.  He  was,  therefore,  not  only  an  un 
commonly  well-informed,  enlightened  and  experienced, 
but  also  an  eminently  conservative,  cautious  and  safe 
counsellor ;  and  the  few  instances  in  which  he  appeared 
more  impulsive  than  prudent  will,  upon  candid  inves 
tigation,  not  impugn  this  statement.  I  am  far  from 
claiming  for  him  absolute  correctness  of  view,  and 
infallibility  of  judgment  in  every  case ;  but  taking  his 
whole  career  together,  it  may  well  be  doubted,  whether 
in  the  whole  history  of  the  Republic,  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States  ever  possessed  a  chairman  of  the  Com- 


EULOGY  BY   GAEL    SCHURZ.  231 

mittee  on  Foreign  Relations  who  united  in  himself,  in 
such  completeness,  the  qualifications  necessary  and  desir 
able  for  the  important  and  delicate  duties  of  that  posi 
tion.  This  may  sound  like  the  extravagant  praise  of  a 
personal  friend ;  but  it  is  the  sober  opinion  of  men 
most  competent  to  judge,  that  it  does  not  go  beyond 
his  merits. 

His  qualities  were  soon  put  to  the  test.  Early  in 
the  war  one  of  the  gallant  captains  in  our  navy  arrested 
the  British  mail  steamer  Trent,  running  from  one  neu 
tral  port  to  another,  on  the  high  seas,  and  took  from 
her  by  force  Mason  and  Slidell,  two  emissaries  of  the 
Confederate  Government,  and  their  despatches.  The 
people  of  the  North  loudly  applauded  the  act.  The 
Secretary  of  the  Navy  approved  it.  The  House  of  Rep 
resentatives  commended  it  in  resolutions.  Even  in  the 
Senate  a  majority  seemed  inclined  to  stand  by  it.  The 
British  Government,  in  a  threatening  tone,  demanded 
the  instant  restitution  of  the  prisoners,  and  an  apology. 
The  people  of  the  North  responded  with  a  shout  of  indig 
nation  at  British  insolence.  The  excitement  seemed 
irrepressible.  Those  in  quest  of  popularity  saw  a  chance 
to  win  it  easily  by  bellicose  declamation. 

But  among  those  who  felt  the  weight  of  responsi 
bility  more  moderate  counsels  prevailed.  The  Govern 
ment  wisely  resolved  to  surrender  the  prisoners,  and 
peace  with  Great  Britain  Avas  preserved. 

It  was  Mr.  SUMNEK  who  threw  himself  into  the 
breach  against  the  violent  drift  of  public  opinion.  In  a 
speech  in  the  Senate,  no  less  remarkable  for  patriotic 
spirit  than  legal  learning  and  ingenious  and  irresistible 


232  CHARLES    SUMNEK. 

argument,  he  justified  the  surrender  of  the  prisoners, 
not  on  the  ground  that  during  our  struggle  with  the 
Rebellion  we  were  not  in  a  condition  to  go  to  war 
with  Great  Britain,  but  on  the  higher  ground  that  the 
surrender,  demanded  by  Great  Britain  in  violation  of 
her  own  traditional  pretensions  as  to  the  rights  of 
belligerents,  was  in  perfect  accord  with  American  prece 
dent,  and  the  advanced  principles  of  our  Government 
concerning  the  rights  of  neutrals,  and  that  this  very 
act,  therefore,  would  for  all  time  constitute  an  addi 
tional  and  most  conspicuous  precedent,  to  aid  in  the 
establishment  of  more  humane  rules  for  the  protection 
of  the  rights  of  neutrals  and  the  mitigation  of  the 
injustice  and  barbarity  attending  maritime  war. 

The  success  of  this  argument  was  complete.  It 
turned  the  tide  of  public  opinion.  It  convinced  the 
American  people  that  this  was  not  an  act  of  pusil 
lanimity,  but  of  justice ;  not  a  humiliation  of  the 
Republic,  but  a  noble  vindication  of  her  time-honored 
principles,  and  a  service  rendered  to  the  cause  of 
progress. 

Other  complications  followed.  The  interference  of 
European  powers  in  Mexico  came.  Excited  demands 
for  intervention  on  our  part  were  made  in  the  Senate, 
and  Mr.  SUMNER,  trusting  that  the  victory  of  the 
Union  over  the  Rebellion  would  bring  on  the  deliver 
ance  of  Mexico  in  its  train,  with  signal  moderation 
and  tact  prevented  the  agitation  of  so  dangerous  a 
policy.  It  is  needless  to  mention  the  many  subsequent 
instances  in  which  his  wisdom  and  skill  rendered  the 
Republic  similar  service. 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  233 

Only  one  of  his  acts  provoked  comment  in  foreign 
countries  calculated  to  impair  the  high  esteem  in  which 
his  name  was  universally  held  there.  It  was  his 
speech  on  the  Alabama  case,  preceding  the  rejection 
by  the  Senate  of  the  Clarendon-Johnson  treaty.  He 
was  accused  of  having  yielded  to  a  vulgar  impulse  of 
demagogism  in  nattering  and  exciting,  by  unfair  state 
ments  and  extravagant  demands,  the  grudge  the  Ameri 
can  people  might  bear  to  England.  No  accusation  could 
possibly  be  more  unjust,  and  I  know  whereof  I  speak. 
Mr.  SUMNER  loved  England — had  loved  her  as  long  as 
he  lived — from  a  feeling  of  consanguinity,  for  the  treas 
ures  of  literature  she  had  given  to  the  world,  for  the 
services  she  had  rendered  to  human  freedom,  for  the 
blows  she  had  struck  at  slavery,  for  the  sturdy  work 
she  had  done  for  the  cause  of  progress  and  civilization, 
for  the  many  dear  friends  he  had  among  her  citizens. 
Such  was  his  impulse,  and  no  man  was  more  incapable 
of  pandering  to  a  vulgar  prejudice. 

I  will  not  deny  that  as  to  our  differences  with  Great 
Britain  he  was  not  entirely  free  from  personal  feeling. 
That  the  England  he  loved  so  well, — the  England  of 
Clarkson  and  Wilberforce,  of  Cobden  and  Bright;  the 
England  to  whom  he  had  looked  as  the  champion  of 
the  anti-slavery  cause  in  the  world, — should  make  such 
hot  haste  to  recognize,  nay,  as  he  termed  it,  to  set  up, 
on  the  seas,  as  a  belligerent,  that  Rebellion,  whose 
avowed  object  it  was  to  found  an  empire  of  slavery, 
and  to  aid  that  Rebellion  by  every  means  short  of  open 
war  against  the  Union, — that  was  a  shock  to  his  feel 
ings  which  he  felt  like  a  betrayal  of  friendship.  And 

30 


234  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

vet  while  that  feeling  appeared  in  the  warmth  of  his 
language,  it  did  not  dictate  his  policy.  I  will  not  dis 
cuss  here  the  correctness  of  his  opinions  as  to  what  he 
styled  the  precipitate  and  unjustifiable  recognition  of 
Southern  belligerency,  or  his  theory  of  consequential 
damages.  What  he  desired  to  accomplish  was,  not  to 
extort  from  England  a  large  sum  of  money,  but  to  put 
our  grievance  in  the  strongest  light ;  to  convince  Eng 
land  of  the  great  wrong  she  had  inflicted  upon  us,  and 
thus  to  prepare  a  composition,  which,  consisting  more 
in  the  settlement  of  great  principles  and  rules  of  inter 
national  law  to  govern  the  future  intercourse  of  nations, 
than  in  the  payment  of  large  damages,  would  remove 
all  questions  of  difference,  and  serve  to  restore  and  con 
firm  a  friendship  which  ought  never  to  have  been  inter 
rupted. 

When,  finally,  the  Treaty  of  Washington  was  nego 
tiated  by  the  Joint  High  Commission,  Mr.  SUMNER, 
although  thinking  that  more  might  have  been  accom 
plished,  did  not  only  not  oppose  that  treaty,  but  ac 
tively  aided  in  securing  for  it  the  consent  of  the  Senate. 
Nothing  would  have  been  more  painful  to  him  than  a 
continuance  of  unfriendly  relations  with  Great  Britain. 
Had  there  been  danger  of  war,  no  man's  voice  would 
have  pleaded  with  more  fervor  to  avert  such  a  calam 
ity.  He  gave  ample  proof  that  he  did  not  desire  any 
personal  opinions  to  stand  in  the  way  of  a  settlement, 
and  if  that  settlement,  which  he  willingly  supported, 
did  not  in  every  respect  satisfy  him,  it  was  because  he 
desired  to  put  the  future  relations  of  the  two  countries 
upon  a  still  safer  and  more  enduring  basis. 


EULOGY   BY   CARL    SCHUKZ.  235 

No  statesman  ever  took  part  in  the  direction  of  our 
foreign  affairs  who  so  completely  identified  himself  with 
the  most  advanced,  humane  and  progressive  principles. 
Ever  jealous  of  the  honor  of  his  country,  he  sought  to 
elevate  that  honor  by  a  policy  scrupulously  just  to  the 
strong,  and'  generous  to  the  weak.  A  profound  lover 
of  peace,  he  faithfully  advocated  arbitration  as  a  sub 
stitute  for  war.  The  barbarities  of  war  he  constantly 
labored  to  mitigate.  In  the  hottest  days  of  our  civil 
conflict  he  protested  against  the  issue  of  letters  of 
marque  and  reprisal ;  he  never  lost  an  opportunity  to 
condemn  privateering  as  a  barbarous  practice,  and  he 
even  went  so  far  as  to  designate  the  system  of  prize- 
money  as  inconsistent  with  our  enlightened  civilization. 
In  some  respects,  his  principles  were  in  advance  of 
our  time ;  but  surely  the  day  will  come  when  this 
Republic,  marching  in  the  front  of  progress,  will  adopt 
them  as  her  own,  and  remember  their  champion  with 
pride. 

I  now  approach  the  last  period  of  his  life,  which 
brought  to  him  new  and  bitter  struggles. 

The  work  of  reconstruction  completed,  he  felt  that 
three  objects  still  demanded  new  efforts.  One  was 
that  the  colored  race  should  be  protected  by  national 
legislation  against  degrading  discrimination,  in  the 
enjoyment  of  facilities  of  education,  travel  and  pleas 
ure,  such  as  stand  under  the  control  of  law;  and  this 
object  he  embodied  in  his  Civil  Rights  Bill,  of  which 
he  was  the  mover  and  especial  champion.  The  second 
was,  that  generous  reconciliation  should  wipe  out  the 
lingering  animosities  of  past  conflicts  and  reunite  in 


236  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

new  bonds  of  brotherhood  all  those  who  had  been 
divided.  And  the  third  was,  that  the  government 
should  be  restored  to  the  purity  and  high  tone  of  its 
earlier  days,  and  that  from  its  new  birth  the  Republic 
should  issue  with  a  new  lustre  of  moral  greatness,  to 
lead  its  children  to  a  higher  perfection  of  manhood, 
and  to  be  a  shining  example  and  beacon-light  to  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth. 

This  accomplished,  he  often  said  to  his  friends  he 
would  be  content  to  lie  down  and  die  ;  but  death  over 
took  him  before  he  was  thus  content,  and  before  death 
came  he  was  destined  to  taste  more  of  the  bitterness 
of  life. 

His  Civil  Rights  Bill  he  pressed  with  unflagging  per 
severance,  against  an  opposition  which  stood  upon  the 
ground  that  the  objects  his  measure  contemplated, 
belonged,  under  the  Constitution,  to  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  States ;  that  the  colored  people,  armed  with  the 
ballot,  possessed  the  necessary  means  to  provide  for 
their  own  security,  and  that  the  progressive  develop 
ment  of  public  sentiment  would  afford  to  them  greater 
protection  than  could  be  given  by  national  legislation 
of  questionable  constitutionality. 

The  pursuit  of  the  other  objects  brought  upon  him 
experiences  of  a  painful  nature.  I  have  to  speak  of 
his  disagreement  with  the  administration  of  President 
Grant  and  with  his  party.  Nothing  could  be  farther 
from  my  desire  than  to  re-open,  on  a  solemn  occasion 
like  this,  those  bitter  conflicts  which  are  still  so  fresh 
in  our  minds,  and  to  assail  any  living  man  in  the 
name  of  the  dead.  Were  it  my  purpose  to  attack,  I 


EULOGY    BY    GAEL    SCHURZ.  237 

should  do  so  in  my  own  name  and  choose  the  place 
where  I  can  be  answered, — not  this.  But  I  have  a 
duty  to  perform ;  it  is  to  set  forth  in  the  light  of 
truth  the  motives  of  the  dead  before  the  living.  I 
knew  CHARLES  SUMMER'S  motives  wrell.  We  stood 
together  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  many  a  hard  contest. 
We  were  friends,  and  between  us  passed  those  confi 
dences  which  only  intimate  friendship  knows.  There 
fore  I  can  truly  say  that  I  knew  his  motives  well. 

The  civil  war  had  greatly  changed  the  country,  and 
left  many  problems  behind  it,  requiring  again  that 
building,  organizing,  constructive  kind  of  statesmanship 
which  I  described  as  presiding  over  the  Republic  in  its 
earlier  history.  For  a  solution  of  many  of  those  prob 
lems  Mr.  SUMNER'S  mind  was  little  fitted,  and  he 
naturally  turned  to  those  which  appealed  to  his  moral 
nature.  No  great  civil  war  has  ever  passed  over  any 
country,  especially  a  republic,  without  producing  wide 
spread  and  dangerous  demoralization  and  corruption, 
not  only  in  the  government,  but  among  the  people. 
In  such  times  the  sordid  instincts  of  human  nature 
develop  themselves  to  unusual  recklessness  under  the 
guise  of  patriotism.  The  ascendancy  of  no  political 
party  in  a  republic  has  ever  been  long  maintained 
without  tempting  many  of  its  members  to  avail  them 
selves  for  their  selfish  advantage  of  the  opportunities 
of  power  and  party  protection,  and  without  attracting 
a  horde  of  camp  followers,  professing  principle,  but 
meaning  spoil.  It  has  always  been  so,  and  the  Ameri 
can  Republic  has  not  escaped  the  experience. 

Neither  Mr.  SUMNER   nor  many  others   could   in   our 


238  CHARLES    SUTHKER. 

circumstances  close  their  eyes  to  this  fact.  He  recog 
nized  the  danger  early,  and  already,  in  1864,  he  intro 
duced  in  the  Senate  a  bill  for  the  reform  of  the  civil 
service,  crude  in  its  detail,  but  embodying  correct 
principles.  Thus  he  may  be  said  to  have  been  the 
earliest  pioneer  of  the  Civil  Service  Reform  movement. 

The  evil  grew  under  President  Johnson's  administra 
tion,  and  ever  since  it  has  been  cropping  out,  not  only 
drawn  to  light  by  the  efforts  of  the  opposition,  but 
voluntarily  and  involuntarily,  by  members  of  the  ruling 
party  itself.  There  were  in  it  many  men  who  confessed 
to  themselves  the  urgent  necessity  of  meeting  the  grow 
ing  danger. 

Mr.  SUMNER  could  not  be  silent.  He  cherished  in 
his  mind  a  high  ideal  of  what  this  Republic  and  its 
government  should  be  :  a  government  composed  of  the 
best  and  wisest  of  the  land ;  animated  by  none  but  the 
highest  and  most  patriotic  aspirations ;  yielding  to  no 
selfish  impulse ;  noble  in  its  tone  and  character ;  setting 
its  face  sternly  against  all  wrong  and  injustice ;  pre 
senting  in  its  whole  being  to  the  American  people  a 
shining  example  of  purity  and  lofty  public  spirit.  Mr. 
SUMNER  was  proud  of  his  country;  there  was  no 
prouder  American  in  the  land.  He  felt  .in  himself  the 
whole  dignity  of  the  Republic.  And  when  he  saw  any 
thing  that  lowered  the  dignity  of  the  Republic  and  the 
character  of  its  government,  he  felt  it  as  he  would  have 
felt  a  personal  offence.  He  criticised  it,  he  denounced 
it,  he  remonstrated  against  it,  for  he  could  not  do 
otherwise.  He  did  so,  frequently  and  without  hesitation 
and  reserve,  when  Mr.  Lincoln  was  President.  He 


EULOGY   BY   CARL    SCHURZ.  239 

continued  to  do  so  ever  since,  the  more  loudly,  the 
more  difficult  it  was  to  make  himself  heard.  It  was 
his  nature ;  he  felt  it  to  be  his  right  as  a  citizen ;  he 
esteemed  it  his  duty  as  a  Senator. 

That,  and  no  other,  was  the  motive  which  impelled 
him.  The  rupture  with  the  administration  was  brought 
on  by  his  opposition  to  the  Santo  Domingo  Treaty. 
In  the  reasons  upon  which  that  opposition  was  based, 
I  know  that  personal  feeling  had  no  share.  They  were 
patriotic  reasons,  publicly  and  candidly  expressed,  and 
it  seems  they  were  appreciated  by  a  very  large  portion 
of  the  American  people.  It  has  been  said  that  he 
provoked  the  resentment  of  the  President  by  first 
promising  to  support  that  treaty  'and  then  opposing  it, 
thus  rendering  himself  guilty  of  an  act  of  duplicity. 
He  has  publicly  denied  the  justice  of  the  charge  and 
stated  the  facts  as  they  stood  in  his  memory.  I  am 
willing  to  make  the  fullest  allowance  for  the  possibility 
of  a  misapprehension  of  words.  But  I  affirm,  also, 
that  no  living  man  who  knew  Mr.  SUMNER  well,  will 
hesitate  a  moment  to  pronounce  the  charge  of  duplicity 
as  founded  on  the  most  radical  of  misapprehensions. 
An  act  of  duplicity  on  his  part  was  simply  a  moral 
impossibility.  It  was  absolutely  foreign  to  his  nature. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  defects  of  his  character, 
he  never  knowingly  deceived  a  human  being.  There 
was  in  him  not  the  faintest  shadow  of  dissimulation, 
disguise  or  trickery.  Not  one  of  his  words  ever  had 
the  purpose  of  a  double  meaning,  not  one  of  his  acts  a 
hidden  aim.  His  likes  and  dislikes,  his  approval  and 
disapproval,  as  soon  as  they  were  clear  to  his  own  con- 


240  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

sciousness,  appeared  before  the  world  in  the  open  light 
of  noonday.  His  frankness  was  so  unbounded,  his 
candor  so  entire,  his  ingenuousness  so  childlike,  that 
he  lacked  even  the  discretion  of  ordinary  prudence. 
He  was  almost  incapable  of  moderating  his  feelings, 
of  toning  down  his  meaning  in  the  expression.  When 
he  might  have  gained  a  point  by  indirection,  he  would 
not  have  done  so,  because  he  could  not.  He  was  one 
of  those  who,  when  they  attack,  attack  always  in  front 
and  in  broad  daylight.  The  night  surprise  and  the 
flank  march  were  absolutely  foreign  to  his  tactics, 
because  they  were  incompatible  with  his  nature.  I 
have  known  many  men  in  my  life,  but  never  one 
who  was  less  capable  of  a  perfidious  act  or  an  artful 
profession. 

Call  him  a  vain,  an  impracticable,  an  imperious  man, 
if  you  will,  but  American  history  does  not  mention  the 
name  of  one,  of  whom  with  greater  justice  it  can  be 
said  that  he  was  a  true  man. 

The  same  candor  and  purity  of  motives  which 
prompted  and  characterized  his  opposition  to  the 
Santo  Domingo  scheme,  prompted  and  characterized 
the  attacks  upon  the  administration  which  followed. 
The  charges  he  made,  and  the  arguments  with  which 
he  supported  them,  I  feel  not  called  upon  to  enumer 
ate.  Whether  and  how  far  they  were  correct  or  erro 
neous,  just  or  unjust,  important  or  unimportant,  the 
judgment  of  history  will  determine.  May  that  judg 
ment  be  just  and  fair  to  us  all.  But  this  I  can  affirm 
to-day,  for  I  know  it :  CHARLES  SUMNER  never  made 
a  charge  which  he  did  not  himself  firmly,  religiously 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  241 

believe  to  be  true.  Neither  did  he  condemn  those  he 
attacked  for  anything  he  did  not  firmly,  religiously 
believe  to  be  wrong.  And  while  attacking  those  in 
power  for  what  he  considered  wrong,  he  was  always 
ready  to  support  them  in  all  he  considered  right. 
After  all  he  has  said  of  the  President,  he  would  to-day, 
if  he  lived,  conscientiously,  cordially,  joyously  aid  in 
sustaining  the  President's  recent  veto  on  an  act  of 
financial  legislation  which  threatened  to  inflict  a  deep 
injury  on  the  character,  as  well  as  the  true  interests  of 
the  American  people. 

But  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  all  he  said  was  so 
deeply  grounded  in  his  feeling  and  conscience,  that  it 
was  for  him  difficult  to  understand  how  others  could 
form  different  conclusions.  When,  shortly  before  the 
National  Republican  Convention  of  1872,  he  had  deliv 
ered  in  the  Senate  that  fierce  philippic  for  which  he 
has  been  censured  so  much,  he  turned  to  me  with  the 
question,  whether  I  did  not  think  that  the  statements 
and  arguments  he  had  produced  would  certainly  exercise 
a  decisive  influence  on  the  action  of  that  convention. 
I  replied  that  I  thought  it  would  not.  He  was  greatly 
astonished, — not  as  if  he  indulged  in  the  delusion  that 
his  personal  word  would  have  such  authoritative  weight, 
but  it  seemed  impossible  to  him  that  opinions  which  in 
him  had  risen  to  the  full  strength  of  overruling  convic 
tion,  that  a  feeling  of  duty  which  in  him  had  grown  so 
solemn  and  irresistible  as  to  inspire  him  to  any  risk 
and  sacrifice,  ever  so  painful,  should  fall  powerless  at 
the  feet  of  a  party  which  so  long  had  followed  inspira 
tions  kindred  to  his  own.  Such  was  the  ingenuousness 

31 


242  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

of  his  nature ;  such  his  faith  in  the  rectitude  of  his  own 
cause.  The  result  of  his  effort  is  a  matter  of  history. 
After  the  Philadelphia  Convention,  and  not  until  then, 
he  resolved  to  oppose  his  party,  and  to  join  a  movement 
which  was  doomed  to  defeat.  He  obeyed  his  sense  of 
right  and  duty  at  a  terrible  sacrifice. 

He  had  been  one  of  the  great  chiefs  of  his  party,  by 
many  regarded  as  the  greatest.  He  had  stood  in  the 
Senate  as  a  mighty  monument  of  the  struggles  and  vic 
tories  of  the  anti-slavery  cause.  He  had  been  a  martyr 
of  his  earnestness.  By  all  Eepublicans  he  had  been 
looked  up  to  with  respect,  by  many  with  veneration. 
He  had  been  the  idol  of  the  people  of  his  State.  All 
this  was  suddenly  changed.  Already,  at  the  time  of 
his  opposition  to  the  Santo  Domingo  scheme,  he  had 
been  deprived  of  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  Senate 
Committee  on  Foreign  Relations,  which  he  had  held  so 
long,  and  with  so  much  honor  to  the  Republic  and  to 
himself.  But  few  know  how  sharp  a  pang  it  gave  to 
his  heart,  this  removal,  which  he  felt  as  the  wanton 
degradation  of  a  faithful  servant  who  was  conscious  of 
only  doing  his  duty. 

But,  when  he  had  pronounced  against  the  candidates 
of  his  party,  worse  experiences  were  for  him  in  store. 
Journals  which  for  years  had  been  full  of  his  praise  now 
assailed  him  with  remorseless  ridicule  and  vituperation, 
questioning  even  his  past  services  and  calling  him  a 
traitor.  Men  who  had  been  proud  of  his  acquaintance 
turned  away  their  heads  when  they  met  him  in  the 
street.  Former  flatterers  eagerly  covered  his  name  with 
slander.  Many  of  those  who  had  been  his  associates 


EULOGY    BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  243 

in  the  struggle  for  freedom  sullenly  withdrew  from  him 
their  friendship.  Even  some  men  of  the  colored  race, 
for  whose  elevation  he  had  labored  with  a  fidelity  and 
devotion  equalled  by  few  and  surpassed  by  none,  joined 
in  the  chorus  of  denunciation.  Oh,  how  keenly  he  felt 
it !  And,  as  if  the  cruel  malice  of  ingratitude  and  the 
unsparing  persecution  of  infuriated  partisanship  had  not 
been  enough,  another  enemy  came  upon  him,  threaten 
ing  his  very  life.  It  was  a  new  attack  of  that  disease 
which,  for  many  years,  from  time  to  time,  had  pros 
trated  him  with  the  acutest  suifering,  and  which  shortly 
should  lay  him  low.  It  admonished  him  that  every 
word  he  spoke  might  be  his  last.  He  found  himself 
forced  to  leave  the  field  of  a  contest  in  which  not  only 
his  principles  of  right,  but  even  his  good  name,  earned 
by  so  many  years  of  faithful  effort,  was  at  stake.  He 
possessed  no  longer  the  elastic  spirit  of  youth,  and  the 
prospect  of  new  struggles  had  ceased  to  charm  him. 
His  hair  had  grown  gray  with  years,  and  he  had 
reached  that  age  when  a  statesman  begins  to  love  the 
thought  of  reposing  his  head  upon  the  pillow  of  assured 
public  esteem.  Even  the  sweet  comfort  of  that  sanc 
tuary  was  denied  him,  in  which  the  voice  of  wife  and 
child  would  have  said :  Rest  here,  for  whatever  the 
world  may  say,  we  know  that  you  are  good  and  faith 
ful  and  noble.  Only  the  friends  of  his  youth,  who 
knew  him  best,  surrounded  him  with  never-flagging 
confidence  and  love,  and  those  of  his  companions-in 
arms,  who  knew  him  also,  and  who  were  true  to  him 
as  they  were  true  to  their  common  cause.  Thus  he 
stood  in  the  presidential  campaign  of  1872. 


244  CHARLES    SUMNEK. 

It  is  at  such  a  moment  of  bitter  ordeal  that  an  honest 
public  man  feels  the  impulse  of  retiring  within  himself; 
to  examine  with  scrupulous  care  the  quality  of  his  own 
motives ;  anxiously  to  inquire  whether  he  is  really  right 
in  his  opinions  and  objects  when  so  many  old  friends 
say  that  he  is  wrong ;  and  then,  after  such  a  review  at 
the  hand  of  conscience  and  duty,  to  form  anew  his 
conclusions  without  bias,  and  to  proclaim  them  without 
fear.  This  he  did. 

He  had  desired,  and  as  he  wrote,  "he  had  confidently 
hoped,  on  returning  home  from  Washington,  to  meet  his 
fellow-citizens  in  Faneuil  Hall,  that  venerable  forum, 
and  to  speak  once  more  on  great  questions  involving 
the  welfare  of  the  country,  but  recurring  symptoms  of 
a  painful  character  warned  him  against  such  an  attempt." 
The  speech  he  had  intended  to  pronounce,  but  could 
not,  he  left  in  a  written  form  for  publication,  and  went 
to  Europe,  seeking  rest,  uncertain  whether  he  would 
ever  return  alive.  In  it  he  reiterated  all  the  reasons 
which  had  forced  him  to  oppose  the  administration  and 
the  candidates  of  his  party.  They  were  unchanged. 
Then  followed  an  earnest  and  pathetic  plea  for  universal 
peace  and  reconciliation.  He  showed  how  necessary 
the  revival  of  fraternal  feeling  was,  not  only  for  the 
prosperity  and  physical  well-being,  but  for  the  moral 
elevation  of  the  American  people  and  for  the  safety  and 
greatness  of  the  Republic.  He  gave  words  to  his  pro 
found  sympathy  with  the  Southern  States  in  their 
misfortunes.  Indignantly  he  declared,  that  "  second 
only  to  the  wide-spread  devastations  of  war  were  the 
robberies  to  which  those  States  had  been  subjected, 


EULOGY    BY    CARL    SCHUKZ.  245 

under  an  administration  calling  itself  Republican,  and 
with  local  governments  deriving  their  animating  impulse 
from  the  party  in  power ;  and  that  the  people  in  these 
communities  would  have  been  less  than  men,  if,  sinking 
under  the  intolerable  burden,  they  did  not  turn  for 
help  to  a  new  party,  promising  honesty  and  reform." 

He  recalled  the  reiterated  expression  he  had  given  to 
his  sentiments,  ever  since  the  breaking  out  of  the  war; 
and  closed  the  recital  with  these  words :  "  Such  is  the 
simple  and  harmonious  record,  showing  how  from  the 
beginning  I  was  devoted  to  peace,  how  constantly  I 
longed  for  reconciliation ;  how,  with  every  measure  of 
equal  rights,  this  longing  found  utterance ;  how  it 
became  an  essential  part  of  my  life ;  how  I  discarded 
all  idea  of  vengeance  and  punishment;  how  reconstruc 
tion  was,  to  my  mind,  a  transition  period,  and  how 
earnestly  I  looked  forward  to  the  day  when,  after  the 
recognition  of  equal  rights,  the  Republic  should  again 
be  one  in  reality  as  in  name.  If  there  are  any  who 
ever  maintained  a  policy  of  hate,  I  never  was  so 
minded ;  and  now  in  protesting  against  any  such  policy, 
I  act  only  in  obedience  to  the  irresistible  promptings  of 
my  soul." 

And  well  might  he  speak  thus.  Let  the  people  of 
the  South  hear  what  I  say.  They  were  wont  to  see  in 
him  only  the  implacable  assailant  of  that  peculiar  insti 
tution,  which  was  so  closely  interwoven  with  all  their 
traditions  and  habits  of  life,  that  they  regarded  it  as 
the  very  basis  of  their  social  and  moral  existence,  as 
the  source  of  their  prosperity  and  greatness ;  the  unspar 
ing  enemy  of  the  Rebellion,  whose  success  was  to  realize 


246  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

the  fondest  dreams  of  their  ambition ;  the  never-resting 
advocate  of  the  grant  of  suffrage  to  the  colored  people, 
which  they  thought  to  be  designed  for  their  own  deg 
radation.  Thus  they  had  persuaded  themselves  that 
CHARLES  SUMNER  was  to  them  a  relentless  foe. 

They  did  not  know,  as  others  knew,  that  he  whom 
they  cursed  as  their  persecutor  had  a  heart  beating 
warmly  and  tenderly  for  all  the  human  kind ;  that  the 
efforts  of  his  life  were  unceasingly  devoted  to  those 
whom  he  thought  most  in  need  of  aid ;  that  in  the 
slave  he  saw  only  the  human  soul,  with  its  eternal 
title  to  the  same  right  and  dignity  which  he  himself 
enjoyed ;  that  he  assailed  the  slavemaster  only  as  the 
oppressor  who  denied  that  right ;  and  that  the  former 
oppressor  ceasing  to  be  such,  and  being  oppressed  him 
self,  could  surely  count  upon  the  fulness  of  his  active 
sympathy  freely  given  in  the  spirit  of  equal  justice ; 
that  it  was  the  religion  of  his  life  to  protect  the  weak 
and  oppressed  against  the  strong,  no  matter  who  were 
the  weak  and  oppressed,  no  matter  who  were  the  strong. 
They  knew  not,  that  while  fiercely  combating  a  wrong, 
there  was  not  in  his  heart  a  spark  of  hatred  even  for 
the  wrong-doer  who  hated  him.  They  knew  not  how 
well  he  deserved  the  high  homage  involuntarily  paid  to 
him  by  a  cartoon  during  the  late  presidential  campaign 
— a  cartoon,  designed  to  be  malicious,  which  repre 
sented  CHARLES  SUMNER  strewing  flowers  on  the  grave 
of  Preston  Brooks.  They  foresaw  not,  that  to  welcome 
them  back  to  the  full  brotherhood  of  the  American 
people,  he  would  expose  himself  to  a  blow,  wounding 
him  as  cruelly  as  that  which  years  ago  levelled  him  to 


EULOGY   BY   GAEL    SCHUKZ.  247 

the  ground  in  the  Senate  Chamber.  And  this  new 
blow  he  received  for  them.  The  people  of  the  South 
ignored  this  long.  Now  that  he  is  gone,  let  them 
never  forget  it. 

From  Europe  Mr.  SUMNER  returned  late  in  the  fall 
of  1872,  much  strengthened,  but  far  from  being  well. 
At  the  opening  of  the  session  he  reintroduced  two  meas 
ures  which,  as  he  thought,  should  complete  the  record 
of  his  political  life.  One  was  his  Civil  Rights  Bill,  which 
had  failed  in  the  last  Congress,  and  the  other,  a  reso 
lution  providing  that  the  names  of  the  battles  won  over 
fellow-citizens  in  the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  should  be 
removed  from  the  regimental  colors  of  the  army,  and 
from  the  army  register.  It  was  in  substance  only  a 
repetition  of  a  resolution  which  he  had  introduced  ten 
years  before,  in  1862,  during  the  war,  when  the  first 
names  of  victories  were  put  011  American  battle-flags. 
This  resolution  called  forth  a  new  storm  against  him. 
It  was  denounced  as  an  insult  to  the  heroic  soldiers  of 
the  Union,  and  a  degradation  of  their  victories  and 
well-earned  laurels.  It  was  condemned  as  an  unpatri 
otic  act. 

CHARLES  SUMNER  insult  the  soldiers  who  had  spilled 
their  blood  in  a  war  for  human  rights  !  CHARLES  SUM 
NER  degrade  victories  and  depreciate  laurels  won  for 
the  cause  of  universal  freedom !  How  strange  an  impu 
tation  ! 

Let  the  dead  man  have  a  hearing.  This  was  his 
thought :  No  civilized  nation,  from  the  republics  of 
antiquity  down  to  our  days,  ever  thought  it  wise  or 
patriotic  to  preserve  in  conspicuous  and  durable  form 


248  CHARLES    SUMKER. 

the  mementos  of  victories  won  over  fellow-citizens  in 
civil  war.  Why  not?  Because  every  citizen  should 
feel  himself  with  all  others  as  the  child  of  a  common 
country,  and  not  as  a  defeated  foe.  All  civilized  gov 
ernments  of  our  days  have  instinctively  followed  the 
same  dictate  of  wisdom  and  patriotism.  The  Irishman, 
when  fighting  for  old  England  at  Waterloo,  was  not  to 
behold  on  the  red  cross  floating  above  him  the  name 
of  the  Boyne.  The  Scotch  Highlander,  when  standing 
in  the  trenches  of  Sebastopol,  was  not  by  the  colors  of 
his  regiment  to  be  reminded  of  Culloden.  No  French 
soldier  at  Austerlitz  or  Solferino  had  to  read  upon  the 
tricolor  any  reminiscence  of  the  Vendee.  No  Hunga 
rian  at  Sadowa  was  taunted  by  any  Austrian  banner 
with  the  surrender  of  Villages.  No  German  regiment, 
from  Saxony  or  Hanover,  charging  under  the  iron  hail 
of  Gravelotte,  was  made  to  remember  by  words  written 
on  a  Prussian  standard  that  the  black  eagle  had  con 
quered  them  at  Koniggratz  and  Langensalza.  Should 
the  son  of  South  Carolina,  when  at  some  future  day 
defending  the  Republic  against  some  foreign  foe,  be 
reminded  by  an  inscription  on  the  colors  floating  over 
him,  that  under  this  flag  the  gun  was  fired  that  killed 
his  father  at  Gettysburg?  Should  this  great  and 
enlightened  Republic,  proud  of  standing  in  the  front 
of  human  progress,  be  less  wise,  less  large-hearted, 
than  the  ancients  were  two  thousand  years  ago,  and 
the  kingly  governments  of  Europe  are  to-day  ?  Let  the 
battle-flags  of  the  brave  volunteers,  which  they  brought 
home  from  the  war  with  the  glorious  record  of  their 
victories,  be  preserved  intact  as  a  proud  ornament  of 


EULOGY    BY    GAEL    SCHURZ.  249 

our  State-houses  and  armories.  But  let  the  colors  of 
the  army,  under  which  the  sons  of  all  the  States  are 
to  meet  and  mingle  in  common  patriotism,  speak  of 
nothing  but  union, — not  a  union  of  conquerors  and 
conquered,  but  a  union  which  is  the  mother  of  all, 
equally  tender  to  all,  knowing  of  nothing  but  equality, 
peace  and  love  among  her  children.  Do  you  want  con 
spicuous  mementos  of  your  victories  ?  They  are  written 
upon  the  dusky  brow  of  every  freeman  who  was  once  a 
slave ;  they  are  written  on  the  gate-posts  of  a  restored 
Union ;  and  the  most  glorious  of  all  will  be  written  on 
the  faces  of  a  contented  people,  reunited  in  common 
national  pride. 

Such  were  the  sentiments  which  inspired  that  reso 
lution.  Such  were  the  sentiments  which  called  forth  a 
storm  of  obloquy.  Such  were  the  sentiments  for  which 
the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  passed  a  solemn  reso 
lution  of  censure  upon  CHARLES  SUMNER, — Massachu 
setts,  his  own  Massachusetts,  whom  he  loved  so  ardently 
with  a  filial  love, — of  whom  he  was  so  proud,  who  had 
honored  him  so  much  in  days  gone  by,  and  whom  he 
had  so  long  and  so  faithfully  labored  to  serve  and  to 
honor!  Oh,  those  were  evil  days,  that  winter;  days 
sad  and  dark,  when  he  sat  there  in  his  lonesome  cham 
ber,  unable  to  leave  it,  the  world  moving  around  him, 
and  in  it  so  much  that  was  hostile, — and  he  prostrated 
by  the  tormenting  disease,  which  had  returned  with 
fresh  violence, — unable  to  defend  himself, — and  with 
this  bitter  arrow  in  his  heart !  Why  was  not  that  reso 
lution  held  up  to  scorn  and  vituperation  as  an  insult 
to  the  brave,  and  an  unpatriotic  act — why  was  he  not 

32 


250  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

attacked  and  condemned  for  it  when  he  first  offered  it, 
ten  years  before,  and  when  he  was  in  the  fulness  of 
manhood  and  power?  If  not  then,  why  now?  Why 
now?  I  shall  never  forget  the  melancholy  hours  I  sat 
with  him,  seeking  to  lift  him  up  with  cheering  words, 
and  he, — his  frame  for  hours  racked  with  excruciating 
pain,  and  then  exhausted  with  suffering, — gloomily 
brooding  over  the  thought  that  he  might  die  so  ! 

How  thankful  I  am,  how  thankful  every  human  soul 
in  Massachusetts,  how  thankful  every  American  must 
be,  that  he  did  not  die  then! — and,  indeed,  more  than 
once,  death  seemed  to  be  knocking  at  his  door.  How 
thankful  that  he  was  spared  to  see  the  day,  when  the 
people  by  striking  developments  were  convinced  that 
those  who  had  acted  as  he  did,  had  after  all  not  been 
impelled  by  mere  whims  of  vanity,  or  reckless  ambition, 
or  sinister  designs,  but  had  good  and  patriotic  reasons 
for  what  they  did ; — when  the  heart  of  Massachusetts 
came  back  to  him  full  of  the  old  love  and  confidence, 
assuring  him  that  he  would  again  be  her  chosen  son 
for  her  representative  seat  in  the  House  of  States  ;— 
when  the  lawgivers  of  the  old  Commonwealth,  obeying 
an  irresistible  impulse  of  justice,  wiped  away  from  the 
records  of  the  Legislature,  and  from  the  fair  name  of 
the  State,  that  resolution  of  censure  which  had  stung 
him  so  deeply, — and  when  returning  vigor  lifted  him 
up,  and  a  new  sunburst  of  hope  illumined  his  life ! 
How  thankful  we  all  are  that  he  lived  that  one  year 
longer  ! 

And  yet,  have  you  thought  of  it,  if  he  had  died  in 
those  dark  days,  when  so  many  clouds  hung  over  him, 


EULOGY   BY    GAEL    SCHURZ.  251 

— would  not  then  the  much  vilified  man  have  been  the 
same  CHARLES  SUMNER,  whose  death  but  one  year  later 
afflicted  millions  of  hearts  with  a  pang  of  bereavement, 
whose  praise  is  now  on  every  lip  for  the  purity  of  his 
life,  for  his  fidelity  to  great  principles,  and  for  the 
loftiness  of  his  patriotism?  Was  he  not  a  year  ago 
the  same,  the  same  in  purpose,  the  same  in  principle, 
the  same  in  character?  What  had  he  done  then  that 
so  many  who  praise  him  to-day  should  have  then  dis 
owned  him?  See  what  he  had  done.  He  had  simply 
been  true  to  his  convictions  of  duty.  He  had  approved 
and  urged  what  he  thought  right,  he  had  attacked  and 
opposed  what  he  thought  wrong.  To  his  convictions 
of  duty  he  had  sacrificed  political  associations  most 
dear  to  him,  the  security  of  his  position  of  which  he 
was  proud.  For  his  convictions  of  duty  he  had  stood 
up  against  those  more  powerful  than  he ;  he  had  exposed 
himself  to  reproach,  obloquy  and  persecution.  Had  he 
not  done  so,  he  would  not  have  been  the  man  you 
praise  to-day ;  and  yet  for  doing  so  he  was  cried  down 
but  yesterday.  He  had  lived  up  to  the  great  word  he 
spoke  when  he  entered  the  Senate :  "  The  slave  of 
principle,  I  call  no  party  master."  That  declaration 
was  greeted  with  applause,  and  when,  true  to  his  word, 
he  refused  to  call  a  party  master,  the  act  was  covered 
with  reproach. 

The  spirit  impelling  him  to  do  so  was  the  same 
conscience  which  urged  him  to  break  away  from  the 
powerful  party  which  controlled  his  State  in  the  days 
of  Daniel  Webster,  and  to  join  a  feeble  minority,  which 
stood  up  for  freedom ;  to  throw  away  the  favor  and 


252  CHAELES    SUMMER. 

defy  the  power  of  the  wealthy  and  refined,  in  order  to 
plead  the  cause  of  the  down-trodden  and  degraded ;  to 
stand  up  against  the  slave-power  in  Congress  with  a 
courage  never  surpassed ;  to  attack  the  prejudice  of 
birth  and  religion,  and  to  plead  fearlessly  for  the  rights 
of  the  foreign-born  citizen  at  a  time  when  the  know- 
nothing  movement  was  controlling  his  State  and  might 
have  defeated  his  own  re-election  to  the  Senate ;  to 
advocate  emancipation  when  others  trembled  with  fear : 
to  inarch  ahead  of  his  followers,  when  they  were  afraid 
to  follow ;  to  rise  up  alone  for  what  he  thought  right, 
when  others  would  not  rise  with  him.  It  was  that 
brave  spirit  which  does  everything,  defies  everything, 
risks  everything,  sacrifices  everything,  comfort,  society, 
party,  popular  support,  station  of  honor,  prospects,  for 
sense  of  right  and  conviction  of  duty.  That  is  it  for 
which  you  honored  him  long,  for  which  you  reproached 
him  yesterday,  and  for  which  you  honor  him  again 
to-day,  and  will  honor  him  forever. 

Ah,  what  a  lesson  is  this  for  the  American  people, — 
a  lesson  learned  so  often,  and,  alas  !  forgotten  almost 
as  often  as  it  is  learned  !  Is  it  well  to  discourage,  to 
proscribe  in  your  public  men  that  independent  spirit 
which  will  boldly  assert  a  conscientious  sense  of  duty, 
even  against  the  behests  of  power  or  party?  Is  it  well 
to  teach  them  that  they  must  serve  the  command  and 
interest  of  party,  even  at  the  price  of  conscience,  or 
they  must  be  crushed  under  its  heel,  whatever  their 
past  service,  whatever  their  ability,  whatever  their 
character  may  be?  Is  it  well  to  make  them  believe 
that  he  who  dares  to  be  himself  must  be  hunted  as  a 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  253 

political  outlaw,  who  will  find  justice  only  when  he  is 
dead?  That  would  have  been  the  sad  moral  of  his 
death,  had  CHARLES  SUMNER  died  a  year  ago. 

Let  the  American  people  never  forget  that  it  has 
always  been  the  independent  spirit,  the  all-defying 
sense  of  duty  which  broke  the  way  for  every  great 
progressive  movement  since  mankind  has  a  history ; 
which  gave  the  American  Colonies  their  sovereignty  and 
made  this  great  Republic ;  which  defied  the  power  of 
slavery,  and  made  this  a  Republic  of  freemen ;  and 
which — who  knows — may  again  be  needed  some  day 
to  defy  the  power  of  ignorance,  to  arrest  the  inroads 
of  corruption,  or  to  break  the  subtle  tyranny  of  organ 
ization  in  order  to  preserve  this  as  a  Republic  !  And 
therefore  let  no  man  understand  me  as  offering  what  I 
have  said  about  Mr.  SUMNER'S  course,  during  the  last 
period  of  his  life,  as  an  apology  for  what  he  did.  He 
was  right  before  his  own  conscience,  and  needs  no 
apology.  Woe  to  the  Republic  when  it  looks  in  vain 
for  the  men  who  seek  the  truth  without  prejudice  and 
speak  the  truth  without  fear,  as  they  understand  it,  no 
matter  whether  the  world  be  willing  to  listen  or  not ! 
Alas  for  the  generation  that  would  put  such  men  into 
their  graves  with  the  poor  boon  of  an  apology  for  what 
was  in  them  noblest  and  best !  Who  will  not  agree 
that,  had  power  or  partisan  spirit,  which  persecuted 
him  because  he  followed  higher  aims  than  party  interest, 
ever  succeeded  in  subjugating  and  moulding  him  after 
its  fashion,  against  his  conscience,  against  his  conviction 
of  duty,  against  his  sense  of  right,  he  would  have  sunk 
into  his  grave  a  miserable  ruin  of  his  great  self, 


254  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

wrecked  in  his  moral  nature,  deserving  only  a  tear  of 
pity?  For  he  was  great  and  useful  only  because  he 
dared  to  be  himself  all  the  days  of  his  life ;  and  for 
this  you  have,  when  he  died,  put  the  laurel  upon  his 
brow ! 

From  the  coffin  which  hides  his  body,  CHARLES  SUM- 
NER  now  rises  up  before  our  eyes  an  historic  character. 
Let  us  look  at  him  once  more.  His  life  lies  before  us 
like  an  open  book  which  contains  no  double  meanings, 
no  crooked  passages,  no  mysteries,  no  concealments. 
It  is  clear  as  crystal. 

Even  his  warmest  friend  will  not  see  in  it  the  model 
of  perfect  statesmanship  ;  not  that  eagle  glance  which, 
from  a  lofty  eminence,  at  one  sweep  surveys  the  whole 
field  on  which  by  labor,  thought,  strife,  accommodation, 
impulse,  restraint,  slow  and  rapid  movement,  the  des 
tinies  of  a  nation  are  worked  out, — and  which,  while 
surveying  the  whole,  yet  observes  and  penetrates  the 
fitness  and  working  of  every  detail  of  the  great  ma 
chinery  ; — not  that  ever  calm  and  steady  and  self-con 
trolling  good  sense,  which  judges  existing  things  just 
as  they  are,  and  existing  forces  just  as  to  what  they 
can  accomplish,  and  while  instructing,  conciliating,  per 
suading  and  moulding  those  forces,  and  guiding  them 
on  toward  an  ideal  end,  correctly  estimates  comparative 
good  and  comparative  evil,  and  impels  or  restrains  as 
that  estimate  may  command.  That  is  the  true  genius 
of  statesmanship,  fitting  all  times,  all  circumstances, 
and  all  great  objects  to  be  reached  by  political  action. 

Mr.  SUMNER'S  natural  abilities  were  not  of  the  very 
first  order;  but  they  were  supplemented  by  acquired 


EULOGY   BY   CARL    SCHURZ.  255 

abilities  of  most  remarkable  power.  His  mind  was  not 
apt  to  invent  and  create  by  inspiration ;  it  produced  by 
study  and  work.  Neither  had  his  mind  superior  con 
structive  capacity.  When  he  desired  to  originate  a 
measure  of  legislation,  he  scarcely  ever  elaborated  its 
practical  detail ;  he  usually  threw  his  idea  into  the  form 
of  a  resolution,  or  a  bill  giving  in  the  main  his  purpose 
only,  and  then  he  advanced  to  the  discussion  of  the 
principles  involved.  It  was  difficult  for  him  to  look  at 
a  question  or  problem  from  more  than  one  point  of  view, 
and  to  comprehend  its  different  bearings,  its  complex 
relations  with  other  questions  or  problems ;  and  to  that 
one  point  of  view  he  was  apt  to  subject  all  other  con 
siderations.  He  not  only  thought,  but  he  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  say  that  all  construction  of  the  Constitution  must 
be  subservient  to  the  supreme  duty  of  giving  the  amplest 
protection  to  the  natural  rights  of  man  by  direct  national 
legislation.  He  was  not  free  from  that  dangerous  ten 
dency  to  forget  the  limits  which  bound  the  legitimate 
range  of  legislative  and  governmental  action.  On 
economical  questions  his  views  were  enlightened  and 
thoroughly  consistent.  He  had  studied  such  subjects 
more  than  is  commonly  supposed.  It  was  one  of  his 
last  regrets  that  his  health  did  not  permit  him  to  make 
a  speech  in  favor  of  an  early  resumption  of  specie  pay 
ments.  On  matters  of  international  law  and  foreign 
affairs  he  was  the  recognized  authority  of  the  Senate. 

But  some  of  his  very  shortcomings  served  to  increase 
that  peculiar  power  which  he  exerted  in  his  time.  His 
public  life  was  thrown  into  a  period  of  a  revolutionary 
character,  when  one  great  end  was  the  self-imposed 


256  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

subject  of  a  universal  struggle,  a  struggle  which  was 
not  made,  not  manufactured  by  the  design  of  men,  but 
had  grown  from  the  natural  conflict  of  existing  things, 
and  grew  irresistibly  on  and  on,  until  it  enveloped  all 
the  thought  of  the  nation ;  and  that  one  great  end 
appealing  more  than  to  the  practical  sense,  to  the  moral 
impulses  of  men,  making  of  them  the  fighting  force. 
There  Mr.  SUMNER  found  his  place  and  there  he  grew 
great,  for  that  moral  impulse  was  stronger  in  him  than 
in  most  of  the  world  around  him ;  and  it  was  in  him 
not  a  mere  crude,  untutored  force  of  nature,  but  edu 
cated  and  elevated  by  thought  and  study ;  and  it  found 
in  his  brain  and  heart  an  armory  of  strong  weapons 
given  to  but  few;  vast  information,  legal  learning, 
industry,  eloquence,  undaunted  courage,  an  independ 
ent  and  iron  will,  profound  convictions,  unbounded 
devotion  and  sublime  faith.  It  found  there  also  a  keen 
and  just  instinct  as  to  the  objects  which  must  be 
reached  and  the  forces  which  must  be  set  in  motion 
and  driven  on  to  reach  them.  Thus  keeping  the  end 
steadily,  obstinately,  intensely  in  view,  he  marched 
ahead  of  his  followers,  never  disturbed  by  their  anxie 
ties  and  fears,  showing  them  that  what  was  necessary 
was  possible,  and  forcing  them  to  follow  him, — a  great 
moving  power,  such  as  the  struggle  required. 

Nor  can  it  be  said  that  this  impatient,  irrepressible 
propulsion  was  against  all  prudence  and  sound  judg 
ment,  for  it  must  not  be  forgotten,  that,  when  Mr. 
SUMNEK  stepped  into  the  front,  the  policy  of  compro 
mise  was  exhausted ;  the  time  of  composition  and  expe 
dient  was  past.  Things  had  gone  so  far,  that  the  idea 


EULOGY   BY   CAUL    SCHUEZ.  257 

of  reaching  the  end,  which  ultimately  must  be  reached, 
by  mutual  concession  and  a  gradual  and  peaceable  proc 
ess,  was  utterly  hopeless.  The  conflicting  forces  could 
not  be  reconciled ;  the  final  struggle  was  indeed  irre 
pressible  and  inevitable,  and  all  that  could  then  be 
done  was  to  gather  up  all  the  existing  forces  for  one 
supreme  effort,  and  to  take  care  that  the  final  struggle 
should  bring  forth  the  necessary  results. 

Thus  the  instinct  and  the  obstinate,  concentrated,  irre 
sistible  moving  power  which  Mr.  SUMNER  possessed  was 
an  essential  part  of  the  true  statesmanship  of  the  revo 
lutionary  period.  Had  he  lived  before  or  after  this 
great  period,  in  quiet,  ordinary  times,  he  would  per 
haps  never  have  gone  into  public  life,  or  never  risen 
in  it  to  conspicuous  significance.  But  all  he  was  by 
nature,  by  acquirement,  by  ability,  by  moral  impulse, 
made  him  one  of  the  heroes  of  that  great  struggle 
against  slavery,  and  in  some  respects  the  first.  And 
then  when  the  victory  was  won,  the  same  moral  nature, 
the  same  sense  of  justice,  the  same  enlightened  mind, 
impelled  him  to  plead  the  cause  of  peace,  reconciliation 
and  brotherhood,  through  equal  rights  and  even  justice, 
thus  completing  the  fulness  of  his  ideal.  On  the  ped 
estal  of  his  time  he  stands  one  of  the  greatest  of  Amer 
icans. 

What  a  peculiar  power  of  fascination  there  was  in 
him  as  a  public  man  !  It  acted  much  through  his  elo 
quence,  but  not  through  his  eloquence  alone.  His 
speech  was  not  a  graceful  flow  of  melodious  periods, 
now  drawing  on  the  listener  with  the  persuasive  tone 
of  confidential  conversation,  then  carrying  him  along 

33 


258  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

with  a  more  rapid  rush  of  thought  and  language,  and 
at  last  lifting  him  up  with  the  peals  of  reason  in  pas 
sion.  His  arguments  marched  forth  at  once  in  grave 
and  stately  array ;  his  sentences  like  rows  of  massive 
doric  columns,  unrelieved  by  pleasing  variety,  severe 
and  imposing.  His  orations,  especially  those  pro 
nounced  in  the  Senate  before  the  war,  contain  many 
passages  of  grandest  beauty.  There  was  nothing  kindly 
persuasive  in  his  utterance ;  his  reasoning  appeared  in 
the  form  of  consecutive  assertion,  not  seldom  strictly 
logical  and  irresistibly  strong.  His  mighty  appeals  were 
always  addressed  to  the  noblest  instincts  of  human 
nature.  His  speech  was  never  enlivened  by  anything 
like  wit  or  humor.  They  were  foreign  to  his  nature. 
He  has  never  been  guilty  of  a  flash  of  irony  or  sar 
casm.  His  weapon  was  not  the  foil,  but  the  battle-axe. 
He  has  often  been  accused  of  being  uncharitable  to 
opponents  in  debate,  and  of  wounding  their  feelings 
with  uncalled  for  harshness  of  language.  He  was  guilty 
of  that,  but  no  man  was  less  conscious  of  the  stinging 
force  of  his  language  than:  he.  He  was  often  sorry  for 
the  effect  his  thrusts  had  produced,  but  being  always  so 
firmly  and  honestly  persuaded  of  the  correctness  of  his 
own  opinions,  that  he  could  scarcely  ever  appreciate 
the  position  of  an  opponent,  he  fell  into  the  same  fault 
again.  JXot  seldom  he  appeared  haughty  in  his  assump 
tions  of  authority ;  but  it  was  the  imperiousness  of  pro 
found  conviction,  which,  while  sometimes  exasperating 
his  hearers,  yet  scarcely  ever  failed  to  exercise  over 
them  a  certain  sway.  His  fancy  was  not  fertile,  his 
figures  mostly  labored  and  stiff.  In  his  later  years  his 


EULOGY   BY    CARL    SCHURZ.  259 

vast  learning  began  to  become  an  encumbering  burden 
to  his  eloquence.  The  mass  of  quoted  sayings  and  his 
torical  illustrations,  not  seldom  accumulated  beyond 
measure  and  grotesquely  grouped,  sometimes  threatened 
to  suffocate  the  original  thought  and  to  oppress  the 
hearer.  But  even  then  his  words  scarcely  ever  failed 
to  chain  the  attention  of  the  audience,  and  I  have  more 
than  once  seen  the  Senate  attentively  listening  while  he 
read  from  printed  slips  the  most  elaborate  disquisition, 
which,  if  attempted  by  any  one  of  his  colleagues,  would 
at  once  have  emptied  the  floor  and  galleries.  But  there 
were  always  moments  recalling  to  our  mind  the  days  of 
his  freshest  vigor,  when  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  struggle,  lifting  up  the  youth  of  the  country  with 
heart-stirring  appeals,  and  with  the  lion-like  thunder  of 
his  voice  shaking  the  Senate  chamber. 

Still  there  was  another  source  from  which  that  fas 
cination  sprung.  Behind  all  he  said  and  did  there  stood 
a  grand  manhood,  which  never  failed  to  make  itself  felt. 
What  a  figure  he  was,  with  his  tall  and  stalwart  frame, 
his  manly  face,  topped  with  his  shaggy  locks,  his  noble 
bearing,  the  finest  type  of  American  Senatorship,  the 
tallest  oak  of  the  forest !  And  how  small  they  appeared 
by  his  side,  the  common  run  of  politicians,  who  spend 
their  days  with  the  laying  of  pipe,  and  the  setting  up 
of  pins,  and  the  pulling  of  wires  ;  who  barter  an  office 
to  secure  this  vote,  and  procure  a  contract  to  get  that ; 
who  stand  always  with  their  ears  to  the  wind  to  hear 
how  the  administration  sneezes,  and  what  their  constitu 
ents  whisper,  in  mortal  trepidation  lest  they  fail  in  being 
all  things  to  everybody  !  How  he  towered  above  them, 


260  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

he  whose  aims  were  always  the  highest  and  noblest ; 
whose  very  presence  made  you  forget  the  vulgarities  of 
political  life  ;  who  dared  to  differ  with  any  man  ever  so 
powerful,  any  multitude  ever  so  numerous ;  wrho  re 
garded  party  as  nothing  but  a  means  for  great  ends,  and 
for  those  ends  defied  its  power ;  to  whom  the  arts  of 
demagogism  were  so  contemptible,  that  he  would  rather 
have  sunk  into  obscurity  and  oblivion  than  descend  to 
them ;  to  whom  the  dignity  of  his  office  was  so  sacred 
that  he  would  not  even  ask  for  it  for  fear  of  darkening 
its  lustre  ! 

Honor  to  the  people  of  Massachusetts  who,  for 
twenty-three  years,  kept  in  the  Senate,  and  would 
have  kept  him  there  ever  so  long,  had  he  lived,  a 
man  who  never,  even  to  them,  conceded  a  single  iota 
of  his  convictions  in  order  tq  remain  there  !  And  what 
a  life  was  his  !  A  life  so  wholly  devoted  to  what  was 
good  and  pure  !  There  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
grasping  materialism  of  our  times,  around  him  the 
eager  chase  for  the  almighty  dollar,  no  thought  of 
opportunity  ever  entering  the  smallest  corner  of  his 
mind,  and  disturbing  his  high  endeavors ;  with  a  virtue 
which  the  possession  of  power  could  not  even  tempt, 
much  less  debauch ;  from  whose  presence  the  very 
thought  of  corruption  instinctively  shrunk  back ;  a  life 
so  spotless,  an  integrity  so  intact,  a  character  so  high, 
that  the  most  daring  eagerness  of  calumny,  the  most 
wanton  audacity  of  insinuation,  standing  on  tiptoe, 
could  not  touch  the  soles  of  his  shoes  ! 

They  say  that  he  indulged  in  overweening  self- 
appreciation.  Ay,  he  did  have  a  magnificent  pride,  a 


EULOGY   BY   GAEL    SCHUEZ.  261 

lofty  self-esteem.  Why  should  he  not?  Let  wretches 
despise  themselves,  for  they  have  good  reason  to  do 
so ;  not  he.  But  in  his  self-esteem  there  was  nothing 
small  and  mean ;  no  man  lived  to  whose  very  nature 
envy  and  petty  jealousy  were  more  foreign.  Con 
scious  of  his  own  merit,  he  never  depreciated  the  merit 
of  others ;  nay,  he  not  only  recognized  it,  but  he 
expressed  that  recognition  with  that  cordial  spontaneity 
which  can  only  flow  from  a  sincere  and  generous 
heart.  His  pride  of  self  was  like  his  pride  of  country. 
He  was  the  proudest  American ;  he  was  the  proudest 
New  Englander;  and  yet  he  was  the  most  cosmopol 
itan  American  I  have  ever  seen.  There  was  in  him 
not  the  faintest  shadow  of  that  narrow  prejudice  which 
looks  askance  at  what  has  grown  in  foreign  lands. 
His  generous  heart  and  his  enlightened  mind  were  too 
generous  and  too  enlightened  not  to  give  the  fullest 
measure  of  appreciation  to  all  that  was  good  and 
worthy,  from  whatever  quarter  of  the  globe  it  came. 

And  now  his  home !  There  are  those  around  me 
who  have  breathed  the  air  of  his  house  in  Washington, 
—that  atmosphere  of  refinement,  taste,  scholarship,  art, 
friendship,  and  warm-hearted  hospitality ;  who  have 
seen  those  rooms  covered  and  filled  with  his  pictures, 
his  engravings,  his  statues,  his  bronzes,  his  books  and 
rare  manuscripts — the  collections  of  a  lifetime — the 
image  of  the  richness  of  his  mind,  the  comfort  and 
consolation  of  his  solitude.  They  have  beheld  his 
childlike  smile  of  satisfaction  when  he  unlocked  the 
most  precious  of  his  treasures  and  told  their  stories. 

They   remember  the    conversations   at   his    hospitable 


262  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

board,  genially  inspired  and  directed  by  him,  on  art, 
and  books,  and  inventions,  and  great  times,  and  great 
men, — when  suddenly  sometimes,  by  accident,  a  new 
mine  of  curious  knowledge  disclosed  itself  in  him, 
which  his  friends  had  never  known  he  possessed :  or 
when  a  sunburst  of  the  affectionate  gentleness  of  his 
soul  warmed  all  hearts  around  him.  They  remember 
his  craving  for  friendship,  as  it  spoke  through  the  far 
outstretched  hand  when  you  arrived,  and  the  glad 
exclamation:  "I  am  so  happy  you  came," — and  the 
beseeching,  almost  despondent  tone  when  you  departed : 
"Do  not  leave  me  yet;  do  stay  awhile  longer,  I  want 
so  much  to  speak  with  you  ! "  It  is  all  gone  IIOAV.  He 
could  not  stay  himself,  and  he  has  left  his  friends 
behind,  feeling  more  deeply  than  ever  that  no  man 
could  know  him  well  but  to  love  him. 

Now  we  have  laid  him  into  his  grave,  in  the  motherly 
soil  of  Massachusetts,  which  was  so  dear  to  him.  He 
is  at  rest  now,  the  stalwart,  brave  old  champion,  whose 
face  and  bearing  were  so  austere,  and  whose  heart  was 
so  full  of  tenderness ;  who  began  his  career  with  a 
pathetic  plea  for  universal  peace  and  charity,  and  whose 
whole  life  was  an  arduous,  incessant,  never-resting 
struggle,  which  left  him  all  covered  with  scars.  And 
we  can  do  nothing  for  him  but  commemorate  his  lofty 
ideals  of  Liberty,  and  Equality,  and  Justice,  and  Recon 
ciliation,  and  Purity,  and  the  earnestness  and  courage 
and  touching  fidelity  with  which  he  fought  for  them ; 
so  genuine  in  his  sincerity,  so  single-minded  in  his 
zeal ,  so  heroic  in  his  devotion  ! 

Oh,  that  we  could  but  for   one    short   hour    call   him 


EULOGY  BY  GAEL  SCHUEZ.         263 

up  from  his  coffin,  to  let  him  see  with  the  same  eyes 
which  saw  so  much  hostility,  that  those  who  stood 
against  him  in  the  struggles  of  his  life  are  his  enemies 
no  longer !  That  we  could  show  him  the  fruit  of  the 
conflicts  and  sufferings  of  his  last  three  years,  and  that 
he  had  not  struggled  and  suffered  in  vain  !  We  would 
bring  before  him,  not  only  those  who  from  offended 
partisan  zeal  assailed  him,  and  who  now  with  sorrowful 
hearts  praise  the  purity  of  his  patriotism ;  but  we  would 
bring  to  him  that  man  of  the  South,  a  slaveholder  and 
a  leader  of  secession  in  his  time,  the  echo  of  whose 
words  spoken  in  the  name  of  the  South  in  the  halls  of 
the  National  Capitol  we  heard  but  yesterday ;  words  of 
respect,  of  gratitude,  of  tenderness.  That  man  of  the 
South  should  then  do  what  he  deplored  not  to  have 
done  while  he  lived, — he  should  lay  his  hand  upon  the 
shoulders  of  the  old  friend  of  the  human  kind  and  say 
to  him:  "Is  it  you  whom  I  hated,  and  who,  as  I 
thought,  hated  me?  I  have  learned  now  the  greatness 
and  magnanimity  of  your  soul,  and  here  I  offer  you 
my  hand  and  heart." 

Could  he  but  see  this  with  those  eyes,  so  weary  of 
contention  and  strife,  how  contentedly  would  he  close 
them  again,  having  beheld  the  greatness  of  his  victories  ! 

People  of  Massachusetts  !  he  was  the  son  of  your  soil, 
in  which  he  now  sleeps ;  but  he  is  not  all  your  own. 
He  belongs  to  all  of  us  in  the  North  and  in  the  South, 
—to  the  blacks  he  helped  to  make  free,  and  to  the 
whites  he  strove  to  make  brothers  again.  Let,  on  the 
grave  of  him  whom  so  many  thought  to  be  their 
enemy,  and  found  to  be  their  friend,  the  hands  be 


264  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

clasped  which  so  bitterly  warred  against  each  other. 
Let  upon  that  grave  the  youth  of  America  be  taught, 
by  the  story  of  his  life,  that  not  only  genius,  power 
and  success,  but  more  than  these,  patriotic  devotion 
and  virtue,  make  the  greatness  of  the  citizen !  If  this 
lesson  be  understood,  followed,  more  than  CHARLES 
SUMMER'S  living  word  could  have  done  for  the  glory  of 
America  will  then  be  done  by  the  inspiration  of  his 
great  example.  And  it  will  truly  be  said,  that  although 
his  body  lies  mouldering  in  the  earth,  yet  in  the 
assured  rights  of  all,  in  the  brotherhood  of  a  reunited 
people,  and  in  a  purified  Republic,  he  still  lives  and 
will  live  forever. 


ORATION  BY  ROBERT  B.  ELLIOTT, 

(OF  SODTH  CAROLINA,) 


DELIVERED   BY  INVITATION   OF 


THE   COLOKED    CITIZENS    OF    BOSTON, 


IK     F  A  K  E  U 1 1,     HALL, 


APRIL  14,  1874. 
34 


ORATION. 


MR.  PRESIDENT,  LADIES  AND  GENTLEMEN: 

The  boon  of  a  noble  human  life  cannot  be  appropri 
ated  by  any  single  nation  or  race.  It  is  a  part  of  the 
common  wealth  of  the  world;  a  treasure,  a  guide  and 
an  inspiration  to  all  men,  in  all  lands,  and  through  all 
ages.  The  earthly  activities  of  this  life  are  circum 
scribed  by  time  and  space ;  but  the  divine  and  essential 
genius  which  informs  and  inspires  that  life  is  boundless 
in  the  sweep  of  its  influence,  and  immortal  in  the 
energy  of  its  activity.  In  the  great  All  Hail  Here 
after,  .  in  that  mysterious  and  glorious  Future,  which 
the  heart  of  man,  touched,  as  I  firmly  believe,  by  a 
divine  intimation,  is  ever  painting  with  more  or  less  of 
conscious  fondness,  those  mighty  spirits  moving  in  new 
majesty  and  power  on  their  great  missions  of  Truth 
and  Love,  will  have  laid  aside  the  limitations  which 
fettered  them  here  and  become  the  apparent  and 
acknowledged  leaders  and  voices  of  humanity  itself. 

CHARLES  SUMNER,  in  his  mortal  limitations,  was  an 
American ;  more  narrowly,  he  was  a  Massachusetts 
man ;  more  narrowly  still,  he  was  a  white  man :  but 
to-day  what  nation  shall  claim  him,  what  State  shall 


268  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

appropriate  him,  what  race  shall  boast  him?  He  was 
the  fair  consummate  flower  of  humanity.  He  was  the 
fruit  of  the  ages.  He  was  the  child  of  the  Past  and 
the  promise  of  the  Future.  The  whole  world,  could  it 
but  know  its  relations,  would  mourn  his  departure, 
and  mankind  everywhere  would  join  in  his  honors. 

But,  fellow-citizens,  if  any  fraction  of  humanity  may 
claim  a  peculiar  right  to  do  honor  to  the  .memory  of 
this  great  common  benefactor  of  the  world,  surely  it  is 
the  colored  race  in  these  United  States.  To  other  men 
his  services  may  seem  only  a  vast  accession  of  strength 
to  a  cause  already  moving  with  steady  and  assured 
advance;  to  us,  to  the  colored  race,  he  is  and  ever 
will  be  the  great  leader  in  political  life,  whose  ponder 
ous  and  incessant  blows  battered  down  the  walls  of  our 
prison-house,  and  whose  strong  hand  led  us  forth  into 
the  sunlight  of  Freedom.  I  do  not  seek  to  appropriate 
him  to  my  race :  but  I  do  feel  to-day  that  my  race 
might  almost  bid  the  race  to  which  by  blood  he 
belonged,  to  stand  aside  while  we  to  whose  welfare  his 
life  was  so  completely  given,  advance  to  do  grateful 
honor  to  him  who  was  our  great  Benefactor  and  Friend. 
"To  the  illustrious  the  whole  world  is  a  sepulchre." 
To  CHARLES  SUMNER  the  whole  civilized  world  has  paid 
its  honors,  and  now  we  meet  to  give  some  formal  tes 
timony  of  our  profound  reverence  for  the  personal  gifts 
and  powers,  for  the  measure  of  unselfish  devotion, 
which  he  gave  to  us. 

If  I  could  on  this  occasion  frame  into  articulate  words 
the  feelings  of  our  hearts,  if  I  could  but  half  express 
the  depth  .and  sincerity  of  that  gratitude  which  dwells 


ORATION   BY   ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  269 

in  all  our  hearts,  I   might   hope   to    rise    to   the    height 
of  the  feelings  of  this  hour.     But  that  may  not  be. 

This  is  Faneuil  Hall.  Here,  within  this  venerable 
shelter,  so  fitly  styled  "The  Cradle  of  Liberty,"  a  little 
more  than  twenty-eight  years  ago  the  voice  of  CHARLES 
SUMNER  was  first  heard  in  that  great  warfare  to  which 
his  after-life  was  so  completely  devoted.  His  tones 
were  trumpet-like.  Listen  to  them:  "Let  Massachu 
setts,  then,  be  aroused.  Let  all  her  children  be  sum 
moned  to  this  holy  cause.  There  are  questions  of 
ordinary  politics  in  which  men  may  remain  neutral ; 
but  neutrality  now  is  treason  to  liberty,  to  humanity, 
and  to  the  fundamental  principles  of  free  institutions. 
.  Massachusetts  must  continue  foremost  in  the 
cause  of  Freedom." 

Brave,  glorious  words !  But  how  few  then  to  echo 
them  !  Twenty-eight  years  only  have  passed,  and  here 
in  that  same  Faneuil  Hall,  that  prostrate  race  against 
whose  further  enslavement  CHARLES  SUMNER  then  thun 
dered  his  protest  and  warning,  have  met  beneath  the 
protection  of  the  laws,  not  only  of  Massachusetts,  but 
of  the  American  Republic,  to  do  honor  to  that  splendid 
career  then  and  there  begun,  which  witnessed  the  final 
overthrow  of  Slavery  and  the  citizenship  of  its  victims 
throughout  the  Republic. 

From  that  hour,  in  this  Hall,  in  November,  1845, 
CHARLES  SUMNER  may  be  said  to  have  entered  on  his 
life-work.  With  what  spendid  equipments  of  mind,  of 
heart,  of  body,  did  he  advance  to  the  conflict !  No 
knightlier  figure  ever  moved  forth  to  ancient  jousts. 


270  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

No  braver  heart  ever  enlisted  in  Freedom's  cause.  No 
scholarship  more  complete  and  affluent,  since  Milton, 
has  placed  its  gifts  and  graces  at  the  shrine  of  Justice 
and  public  Honor. 

He  little  dreamed,  I  have  ventured   to   think,  of  the 
severity  of  the  sacrifices    or   the    glory  of  the    achieve 
ments    which    lay    in    the    pathway    on    which    he    then 
entered.      The    mad    and    remorseless    spirit  of  Slavery 
which   then    aroused   his    courage    and    drew  him  to  the 
conflict,  moved  steadily  forward  to  its  purposes.     Texas 
was    annexed ;    the    whole    North,    the    entire    national 
domain,    were     converted     into    the    hunting-ground    of 
Slavery ;    but   CHAKLES    SUMNER   was    lifted    by  Massa 
chusetts    into    the    Senate    of  the    United    States.     The 
voice  which   had    awakened   the    echoes  of  this    historic 
Hall  in  November,  1845,  was  transferred  to  that  central 
point   to    rouse    the    sleeping    conscience    of   the    whole 
nation.     With  these  vows,  uttered  likewise  in  this  Hall, 
he  entered  upon  his  august   duties    in   the    Senate,  "To 
vindicate  Freedom  and  oppose  Slavery,  so  far  as  I  may 
constitutionally — with    earnestness,    and    yet,    I     trust, 
without  personal  unkindness   on   my  part — is  the  object 
near    my    heart.     Would    that    my    voice,    leaving    this 
crowded  hall  to-night,  could    traverse  the  hills  and  val 
leys  of  New  England,  that  it  could  run  along  the  rivers 
and    lakes    of  my    country,    lighting   in    every    heart    a 
beacon-flame    to    arouse    the    sluniberers    throughout  the 
land  !     Others  may  become    indifferent   to   these    princi 
ples,    bartering    them    for    political    success,    vain    and 
short-lived,    or    forgetting    the    visions  of  youth    in    the 
dreams  of  age.     Whenever   I   forget   them,  whenever  I 


ORATION"   BY   ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  271 

become  indifferent  to  them,  whenever  I  cease  to  be 
constant  in  maintaining  them,  through  good  report  and 
evil  report,  in  any  future  combinations  of  party,  then 
may  'my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth,  may 
my  right  hand  forget  its  cunning.'" 

From  the  hour  he  entered  the  Senate  the  combat 
narrowed  and  deepened.  The  dreadful  Fugitive  Slave 
Law  hung  its  pall  over  the  whole  land.  The  spirit  of 
Slavery  was  omnipresent,  ruling  Courts,  Congress, 
Churches.  In  all  this  fierce  conflict,  above  the  loudest 
din,  ever  sounded  his  courageous,  clarion  voice.  What 
cause  was  ever  honored  by  nobler  efforts  of  research, 
of  argument,  of  historical  illustration,  of  classical  adorn 
ments,  of  strong-hearted,  resounding  and  lofty  elo 
quence?  But  above  all  other  utterances  was  the 
constant  and  conspicuous  enunciation  of  the  highest 
moral  principles  as  applicable  to  all  political  action 
and  duty.  Hear  him  :  "  Sir,  I  have  never  been  a  poli 
tician.  The  slave  of  principles,  I  call  no  party  master. 
By  sentiment,  education  and  conviction  a  friend  of 
Human  Rights  in  their  utmost  expansion,  I  have  ever 
most  sincerely  embraced  the  Democratic  Idea, — not, 
indeed,  as  represented  or  professed  by  any  party,  but 
according  to  its  real  significance,  as  transfigured  in  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  and  in  the  injunctions  of 
Christianity.  Amidst  the  vicissitudes  of  public  affairs, 
I  shall  hold  fast  always  to  this  idea,  and  to  any  politi 
cal  party  that  truly  embraces  it." 

With  such  sentiments  planted  and  cultivated  into  full 
growth  and  vigor  in  the  very  soil  of  his  moral  nature, 
he  presented  himself  to  the  country  and  the  world  in 


272  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

his  first  senatorial  speech  in  August,  1852,  upon  the 
repeal  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law.  Reading  that  massive 
and  noble  argument  again  in  the  light  of  twenty  years 
of  subsequent  events,  how  difficult  to  realize  the  pro 
digious  moral  energy  which  it  at  once  demanded  and 
displayed  !  The  argument  is  ample  and  conclusive  ;  the 
historical  proofs  are  abundant ;  the  eloquence  is  noble 
and  affecting;  but  high  above  all  rises  the  grandeur  of 
the  moral  convictions  which  underlie  and  inspire  all  its 
wealth  of  argumentation  and  oratory.  With  proud  and 
undaunted  spirit  he  thus  denounces  that  wicked  enact 
ment :  "Sir,  the  Slave  Act  violates  the  Constitution 
and  shocks  the  Public  Conscience.  With  modesty,  and 
yet  with  firmness,  let  me  add,  sir,  it  offends  against 
the  Divine  Law. 

"No  such  enactment  is  entitled  to  support.  As  the 
throne  of  God  is  above  every  earthly  throne,  so  are 
his  laws  and  statutes  above  all  the  laws  and  statutes 
of  men.  The  mandates  of  an  earthly  power  are  to  be 
discussed ;  those  of  Heaven  must  at  once  be  per 
formed  ;  nor  can  we  suffer  ourselves  to  be  drawn  into 
any  compacts  in  opposition  to  God."  Words  worthy, 
are  they  not,  fellow-citizens,  of  the  noblest  of  the 
martyrs  and  confessors  of  any  age?  One  year  before, 
his  faithful  friend,  Theodore  Parker,  a  name  ever 
sacred  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  love  Freedom  and 
Truth,  had  written  him,  "I  hope  you  will  build  on  the 
Rock  of  Ages  and  look  to  Eternity  for  your  justifica 
tion."  How  truly  did  he  build  on  the  Rock  of  Ages  ! 
Yet,  while  he  looked  to  eternity,  time  has  brought  him 
his  abundant  justification ! 


ORATION   BY   ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  273 

Upon  the  lofty  arena  of  the  Senate  he  now  struggled 
incessantly  with  the  intellectual  gladiators  whom  Slavery 
ever  had  as  her  champions.  The  heat  and  din  of  the 
conflict  grew  greater  at  every  step.  Yet  there  he 
stood,  proud,  defiant,  uncomplaining,  aggressive.  How 
heavy  the  strain  on  his  great  but  sensitive  nature,  so 
finely  cultured,  his  words  of  acknowledgment  of  the 
cordial  support  which  Massachusetts  ever  gave  him, 
will  attest.  Hear  him  at  Worcester :  "  After  months  of 
constant,  anxious  service  in  another  place,  away  from 
Massachusetts,  I  am  permitted  to  stand  among  you 
again,  my  fellow-citizens,  and  to  draw  satisfaction  and 
strength  from  your  generous  presence.  Life  is  full  of 
change  and  contrast.  From  slave  soil  I  have  come  to 
free  soil.  From  the  tainted  breath  of  Slavery  I  have 
passed  into  the  bracing  air  of  Freedom.  And  the 
heated  antagonism  of  debate,  shooting  forth  its  fiery 
cinders,  is  changed  into  this  brimming,  overflowing 
welcome,  while  I  seem  to  lean  on  the  great  heart  of 
our  beloved  Commonwealth,  as  it  palpitates  audibly  in 
this  crowded  assembly." 

A  little  later,  Slavery,  in  its  rapid  march,  assailed 
the  time-honored  barrier  which  the  compromise  of  a 
former  generation  had  set  up  against  its  advance  over 
our  vast  North-western  territories.  Mr.  SUMNER  was 
now  at  the  height  of  his  powers.  His  age  was  forty- 
three  ;  his  senatorial  experience  was  such  as  to  confirm 
his  confidence  in  his  own  powers,  and  to  concentrate 
upon  him  the  confidence  and  admiration  of  the  friends 
of  Freedom.  History  has  been  to  me  the  delight  and 
study  of  my  life,  but  I  know  of  no  figure  in  history 

35 


274  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

which  commands  more .  of  my  admiration  than  that  of 
CHARLES  SUMNER  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States, 
from  the  hour  when  Douglas  presented  his  ill-omened 
measure  for  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise 
until  the  blow  of  the  assassin  laid  him  low.  Here  was 
the  perfection  of  moral  constancy  and  daring.  Here 
was  sleepless  vigilance,  unwearying  labor,  hopefulness 
born  only  of  deepest  faith,  buoyant  resolution  caring 
nothing  for  human  odds,  but  serenely  abiding  in  the 
perfect  peace  which  the  unselfish  service  of  Truth 
alone  can  bring.  The  issues  then  before  the  country 
awakened  his  profoundest  alarm.  The  balance  seemed 
to  him  to  be  about  to  pass  from  Freedom  to  Slavery. 
The  American  Eepublic,  so  solemnly  dedicated  by  the 
Fathers  to  Freedom,  seemed  about  to  cut  loose  from 
all  her  ancient  moorings.  The  imminence  and  great 
ness  of  the  danger  oppressed  him.  Listen  to  these 
words,  opening  that  speech  which  seems  to  me  perhaps 
the  most  perfect  of  his  life,  in  which  he  first  opposed 
the  removal  of  the  Landmark  of  Freedom:  "Mr. 
President,  I  approach  this  discussion  with  awe.  The 
mighty  question,  with  untold  issues,  oppresses  me. 
Like  a  portentous  cloud,  surcharged  with  irresistible 
storm  and  ruin,  it  seems  to  fill  the  whole  heavens, 
making  me  painfully  conscious  how  unequal  to  the  oc 
casion  I  am, — how  unequal,  also,  is  all  that  I  can  say 
to  all  that  I  feel."  But  listen,  also,  to  these  words  of 
lofty  cheer  which  fitly  close  the  same  speech,  in  which, 
rising  on  the  wings  of  Faith,  he  looks  beyond  the 
storm  raging  around  him,  and  contemplates  that  purer 
and  final  "  UNION  contemplated  at  the  beginning, 


ORATION   BY   ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  275 

against  which  the  storms  of  faction  and  the  assaults  of 
foreign  power  shall  beat  in  vain,  as  upon  the  Rock  of 
Ages, — and  LIBERTY,  seeking  a  firm  foothold,  WILL 

HAVE  AT  LAST  WHEREON  TO  STAND  AND  MOVE  THE 
WORLD." 

To  such  a  man,  to  a  faith  so  clear-sighted,  to  a 
spirit  so  faithful  to  God  and  His  Truth,  no  disaster  or 
defeat,  my  fellow-citizens,  can  ever  come.  Victory  sits 
forever  on  his  triumphant  crest. 

And  in  his  last  final  protest  against  that  measureless 
wrong,  see  how,  from  the  oppression  of  temporary 
defeat,  he  rises  to  joyous  heights  of  serene  moral  con 
fidence  :  "Sir,  more  clearly  than  ever  before,  I  now 
penetrate  that  great  Future  when  Slavery  must  disap 
pear.  Proudly  I  discern  the  flag  of  my  country,  as  it 
ripples  in  every  breeze,  at  last  in  reality,  as  in  name, 
the  Flag  of  Freedom, — undoubted,  pure  and  irresistible. 
Sorrowfully  I  bend  before  the  wrong  you  commit. 
Joyfully  I  welcome  the  promises  of  the  Future." 

But  the  sacred  Landmark  of  Freedom  for  which  he 
pleaded  was  ruthlessly  swept  away,  and  two  years  later, 
the  country  was  convulsed  by  the  outrages  of  the  Slave 
Power  on  the  plains  of  Kansas.  The  conflict  raged 
equally  in  the  halls  of  Congress,  where  Slavery  sought 
to  gather  the  fruits  of  this  great  wrong,  by  the  organ 
ization  of  the  Territory  of  Kansas  as  a  Slave  State. 

Against  this  measure,  CHARLES  SUMNER  uttered  the 
magnificent  philippic  entitled  so  aptly  "  The  Crime 
against  Kansas,"  thus  expressing  in  a  single  phrase,  the 
moral  aspects  and  character  of  that  whole  passage  of 
history. 


276  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

In  that  speech  he  developed  new  powers  of  denun 
ciation  and  invective.  From  the  impressive  exordium 
beginning,  "Mr.  President,  you  are  now  called  to 
redress  a  great  wrong," —  on  through  the  ample  state 
ment,  the  exhaustive  narrative,  the  irresistible  argu 
ment,  the  fiery  invective,  the  pathetic  appeal,  to  those 
last  words  of  the  memorable  peroration, — "In  the  name 
of  the  Heavenly  Father,  whose  service  is  perfect  Free 
dom,  I  make  this  last  appeal,"  —  he  spoke  with  abso 
lute  fidelity  to  the  convictions  of  his  own  heart,  and  of 
the  aroused  conscience  of  the  free  North.  It  was  the 
full  discharge,  aye,  the  explosion,  of  the  slumbering 
volcano  of  moral  indignation  which  Slavery  had  aroused 
in  thirty  years  of  continuous  and  intolerable  aggres 
sions.  It  was  the  voice  of  the  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence  calling  back  the  recreant  sons  to  the  faith  and 
practice  of  the  Fathers.  It  was,  as  Whittier  said,  "a 
grand  and  terrible  philippic,  worthy  of  the  great  occa 
sion  ;  the  severe  and  awful  truth  which  the  sharp  agony 
of  the  national  crisis  demanded."  It  was  more  than  a 
speech,  it  was  an  event.  It  was  more  than  a  half  bat 
tle,  it  was  a  battle  crowned  with  glorious  victory.  It 
was  a  scene  and  a  speech  to  be  compared  only  with 
the  great  triumphs  of  oratory, — Demosthenes  pleading 
for  Athenian  liberty,  Cicero  thundering  against  the 
oppressor  of  Sicily,  Burke  arraigning  the  Scourge  of 
India. 

But  why  do  I  thus  characterize  that  great  utterance? 
Two  days  after  its  delivery  it  received  a  demonstration 
of  its  quality  and  power,  more  impressive  and  startling 
than  any  which  attended  the  former  masterpieces  of 


ORATION   BY   ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  277 

human  speech.  Slavery,  in  the  person  of  a  Represent 
ative  in  Congress  from  South  Carolina,  struck  him  to 
the  floor  and  covered  him  with  murderous  blows.  It 
was,  as  another  has  eloquently  said,  "our  champion 
beaten  to  the  ground  for  the  noblest  word  Massachusetts 
ever  spoke  in  the  Senate." 

The  effect  of  this  assault  upon  the  fortunes  of  the 
two  struggling  Powers, — Freedom  and  Slavery,  —  was 
significant.  Each  rushed  to  the  support  of  its  cham 
pion.  Brooks  was  hailed  throughout  the  South  as  the 
chivalrous  exponent  of  Slavery,  while  CHARLES  SIDIXER 
ceased  to  be  the  assailant  merely  of  Slavery,  and 
became  the  champion  and  martyr  of  free  speech  and 
the  sacred  right  of  parliamentary  debate. 

Alas,  —  do  we  not  still  say  alas, — that  "that  noble 
head,"  as  Emerson  then  said,  "so  comely  and  so  wise, 
must  be  the  target  for  a  pair  of  bullies  to  beat  with 
clubs ! "  Yet  that  blood  was  precious  testimony  for 
Truth  and  Freedom.  In  an  instant  the  civilized  world 
stood  by  the  side  of  SUMNER.  What  neither  moral 
force,  nor  finished  scholarship,  nor  commanding  elo 
quence  could  do,  this  final  brutality  achieved  ;  and  from 
that  day  the  hot  and  furious  Avrath  of  every  freedom- 
loving  heart,  fell  upon  that  institution  whose  agent  and 
representative  had  thus  outraged  humanity  itself.  Amer 
ica  and  Europe  rang  with  a  shout  of  horror.  This 
historic  hall  echoed  with  fitting  words  of  indignant  elo 
quence.  "It  is,"  said  one  still  living,  "it  is  a  blow  not 
merely  at  Massachusetts,  a  blow  not  merely  at  the 
name  and  fame  of  our  common  country ;  it  is  a  blow 
at  constitutional  liberty  all  the  world  over ;  it  is  a  stab 


278  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

at  the  cause  of  Universal  Freedom.  It  is  aimed  at  all 
men,  everywhere,  who  are  struggling  for  what  we  now 
regard  as  our  great  birth-right,  and  which  we  intend 
to  transmit  unimpaired  to  our  latest  posterity. 
Forever,  forever  and  aye,  that  stain  will  plead  in 
silence  for  liberty,  wherever  man  is  enslaved,  for 
humanity  all  over  the  world,  for  truth  and  for  justice, 
now  and  forever." 

Months  and  years  of  bodily  suffering  followed  this 
outrage,  borne,  as  all  his  life's  experiences  were  borne, 
with  unsurpassed  fortitude,  but  with  longings  inexpres 
sible  for  a  return  to  the  activities  and  dangers  of  the 
conflict  in  which  he  was  now  the  central  figure.  While 
recalling  this  devotion  of  her  great  Senator,  let  me  not 
forget  to  pay  a  tribute  to  that  generous  and  true  Com 
monwealth  which  he  so  truly  represented.  If  CHARLES 
SUMNER  was  faithful,  so  was  Massachusetts.  The  proud 
State  felt,  and  felt  truly,  that  his  vacant  chair  was  her 
truest  representative  until  he  to  whom  it  belonged 
should  re-occupy  it.  While  still  prostrated  and  unable 
to  resume  his  duties,  Massachusetts  by  a  vote  approach 
ing  unanimity,  re-elected  him  as  her  Senator,  —  State 
and  Senator,  true  to  each  other,  worthy  of  each  other. 

But  while  resting  among  the  Alleghanies  of  our  own 
country,  or  seeking  health  on  foreign  shores,  his  heart 
was  never  absent  from  the  Great  Cause.  What  tributes 
do  his  brief  utterances  bear  to  the  unwavering  fidelity  of 
his  soul !  Speaking  to  a  sympathizing  friend,  he  says, 
"Oh,  no.  My  suffering  is  little,  in  comparison  with 
daily  occurrences.  The  poorest  slave  is  in  danger  of 
worse  outrages  every  moment  of  his  life."  Again  he 


ORATION   BY   EGBERT    B.    ELLIOTT.  279 

writes  to  the  young  men  of  Fitchburg,  "  We  have  been 
told  that  the  *  duties  of  life  are  more  than  life ' ;  and  I 
assure  you  that  the  hardest  part  of  my  present  lot  is  the 
enforced  absence  from  public  duties,  and  especially  from 
that  seat,  where,  as  Senator  from  Massachusetts,  it  is 
my  right,  and  also  my  strong  desire  at  this  moment,  to 
be  heard." 

Again  he  writes,  "With  sorrow  inexpressible  I  am 
constrained  to  all  the  care  and  reserve  of  an  invalid. 
More  than  four  months  have  passed  since  you  clasped 
my  hand  as  I  lay  bleeding  in  the  Senate  chamber.  This 
is  hard,  very  hard,  for  me  to  bear,  for  I  long  to  do  some 
thing,  at  this  critical  moment,  for  the  Cause.  What  is 
life  worth  without  action  ?  " 

Again,  while  lingering  at  Savoy,  subjected  to  daily 
treatment  by  fire,  he  writes,  "It  is  with  a  pang  unspeak 
able  that  I  find  myself  thus  arrested  in  the  labors  of  life 
and  in  the  duties  of  my  position.  This  is  harder  to  bear 
than  the  fire." 

No  testimonies  of  this  noble  life  will  be  more  precious 
than  these  longings  of  this  great  heart  for  the  duties  of 
his  position. 

At  last  on  the  4th  of  June,  1860,  he  was  permitted 
to  re-enter  upon  those  scenes  of  senatorial  debate  from 
which,  four  years  before,  he  had  been  so  cruelly  with 
drawn.  Butler  and  Brooks  were  both  dead.  The 
memories  of  his  outrage  and  sufferings  must  have  filled 
his  mind,  yet  see  how  he  puts  by  all  personal  considera 
tions,  and  remembers  only  the  Cause  for  which  he  is  to 
speak :  "  Mr.  President,  I  have  no  personal  griefs  to 
utter, — only  a  vulgar  egotism  could  intrude  such  into 


280  CHARLES    SUMKEK. 

this  chamber ;  I  have  no  personal  wrongs  to  avenge, 
—  only  a  brutish  nature  could  attempt  to  wield  that 
vengeance  which  belongs  to  the  Lord.  The  years  that 
have  intervened  and  the  tombs  that  have  opened  since 
I  spoke,  have  their  voices,  which  I  cannot  fail  to  hear. 
Besides,  what  am  I,  what  is  any  man  among  the  living 
or  among  the  dead,  compared  with  the  question  before 
us?" 

With  these  simple  and  yet  pathetic  allusions  he  com 
menced  that  most  exhaustive  delineation  of  the  spirit, 
methods  and  effects  of  Slavery,  which,  under  its  singu 
larly  felicitous  title,  "The  Barbarism  of  Slavery,"  will 
remain  a  monument  of  research,  of  invective,  and  of 
impassioned  eloquence. 

From  this  time  the  great  drama  moved  rapidly  to  its 
catastrophe.  The  Slave  Power  writhed  beneath  the 
eifect  of  this  awful  arraignment  at  the  bar  of  the 
world's  judgment.  It  saw  in  secession  from  the  Union 
and  the  establishment  of  a  separate  Slaveholding  Con 
federacy,  its  only  hope  and  safety.  Abraham  Lincoln 
became  President,  and  in  April,  1861,  the  bombard 
ment  of  Fort  Sumter  in  Charleston  harbor,  sounded  the 
tocsin  of  civil  war  throughout  the  land.  Into  that 
struggle  CHARLES  SUMNER  entered  without  hesitation 
and  without  alarm.  His  only  anxiety  had  been  to  keep 
the  North  clear  of  the  deadly  spirit  of  Compromise. 
Let  justice  be  done  him  here.  His  moral  equilibrium 
and  courage  were  never  more  conspicuous.  Many  had 
joined  him  in  his  fierce  assaults  on  Slavery,  who  now 
shrunk  back  from  the  gulf  of  war  and  disunion  which 
seemed  to  open  before  them.  Compromises  were  sug- 


ORATIOK   BY   ROBERT    B.    ELLIOTT.  281 

gested  on  all  sides, — compromises,  too,  which  would 
have  robbed  Freedom  of  all  her  advantage  and  left  the 
Slave  to  his  hopeless  bondage.  Let  no  negro  forget, — 
nay,  let  no  American  forget, — that  CHARLES  SUMNER 
never  sullied  his  lips  with  degrading  compromise. 

Duty  was  his  master ;  Justice  ruled  him ;  and  to 
every  suggestion  of  compromise  with  Slavery  he  re 
sponded,  "Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan!" 

His  inflexible  spirit  may  be  seen  in  these  words  to 
Governor  Andrew :  "  Timeo  Danaos  et  dona  ferentes. 
Don't  let  these  words  be  ever  out  of  your  mind,  when 
you  think  of  any  proposition  from  the  Slave  Masters. 
They  are  all  essentially  false,  with  treason  in  their 
hearts,  if  not  on  their  tongues.  How  can  it  be  other 
wise?  Slavery  is  a  falsehood,  and  its  supporters  are 
all  perverted  and  changed.  Punic  in  faith,  Punic  in 
character,  you  are  to  meet  all  that  they  do  or  say 
with  denial  or  distrust.  I  know  these  men  and  see 
through  their  plot.  The  time  has  not  yet  come  to 
touch  the  chords  which  I  wish  to  awaken.  But  I  see 
my  way  clear.  O  God!  let  Massachusetts  keep  true. 
It  is  all  I  ask." 

Again,  to  the  same  friend  he  writes,  "More  than  the 
loss  of  forts,  arsenals,  or  the  national  capital,  /  fear 
the  loss  of  our  principles.  .  .  .  Keep  firm,  and 
do  not  listen  to  any  proposition." 

Fellow-citizens,  I  am  a  negro, — one  of  the  victim 
race.  My  heart  bows  in  gratitude  to  every  man  who 
struck  a  blow  for  the  liberty  of  my  race.  But  how  can 
I  fail  to  remember  that  alone,  alone,  of  all  the  great 
leaders  of  our  cause  at  Washington,  CHARLES  SUMNER 


282  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

kept  his  faith  to  Freedom,  stern  and  true.  What 
measure  of  honor  shall  we  not  pay  to  him  whose  only 
prayer,  amidst  the  abounding  dangers  of  that  hour, 
was,  "O  God!  let  Massachusetts  keep  true"?  Lin 
coln,  Sewurd,  Adams, — eulogy  even  cannot  claim  such 
absolute  fidelity  for  either  of  them.  History,  I  venture 
to  predict,  will  point  to  this  passage  in  the  life  of 
CHARLES  SUMNER,  as  the  highest  proof  of  the  superior 
and  faultless  tone  of  his  moral  nature.  What  a  majestic 
moral  figure !  Let  us  bear  it  in  our  hearts  as  the 
crowning  gift  and  glory  of  his  life. 

But  humanity  swept  onward ;  timid  compromisers 
were  overwhelmed  by  the  logic  of  events  ;  and  at  last 
God  held  this  great  nation  face  to  face  with  its  duty. 
The  death-grapple  rocked  and  agonized  the  land.  Re 
leased  from  the  Delilah  bands  of  compromise,  the  Sam 
son  of  the  North  resumed  and  re-asserted  his  resistless 
strength.  In  the  van  of  every  effort  and  policy  which 
sought  the  overthrow  of  Slavery  or  the  triumph  of  Free 
dom,  was  CHARLES  SUMXER.  "  EMANCIPATION,  our  best 
WEAPON,"  is  the  inspiring  title  of  a  speech  bearing  so 
early  a  date  as  October  1,  1861.  "WELCOME  TO  FUGI 
TIVE  SLAVES,"  was  a  senatorial  utterance  of  December 
4,  1861.  With  tireless  industry,  working  in  all  direc 
tions  :  in  legislation  for  the  support  of  our  armies  ;  for 
maintaining  our  public  credit ;  in  inspiring  the  President 
to  his  full  duty  ;  in  guarding  our  relations  with  other 
nations;  above  all,  in  saving  the  nation  from  the  fatal 
mistake  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  Louisiana  scheme  of  reconstruc 
tion,  he  sustained,  encouraged,  vindicated,  and  ennobled 
the  National  Cause. 


ORATION   BY  ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  283 

The  triumph  of  the  national  arms  in  the  spring  of  1865, 
threw  upon  the  National  Government  the  unparalleled 
task  of  re-establishing  civil  government  in  the  rebellious 
States.  The  work  of  destruction  was  ended,  and  the 
work  of  rebuilding  must  be  begun.  The  ill-advised  and 
ill-starred  attempts  of  Andrew  Johnson  complicated  the 
problem  already  bristling  with  difficulties,  constitutional 
and  legal,  and  beset  with  dangers,  political  and  moral. 
The  moral  intrepidity  and  prescience  of  Mr.  SUMNER, 
were  earliest  to  detect  the  false  political  theories  which 
then  so  widely  prevailed.  With  wonted  boldness  he 
denounced  the  Presidential  scheme  of  reconstruction, 
and  summoned  Congress  and  the  country  to  its  duty. 
In  a  series  of  senatorial  efforts  he  proclaimed  and  em 
phasized  in  the  ear  of  the  nation,  the  paramount  duty 
of  guarding  the  results  of  the  war  by  "  irreversible  con 
stitutional  guarantees."  Especially  did  he  denounce  the 
injustice  and  wickedness  of  any  settlement  which  left 
the  colored  race  of  the  South  under  the  hands  of  their 
former  masters.  This  was  an  axiom  in  his  arguments, 
the  postulate  of  his  reasonings.  From  this  starting 
point  he  readily  reached  that  conclusion,  finally  accepted 
by  the  country  and  enacted  into  our  national  laws  and 
Constitution,  that  the  colored  race  must  be  made  citizens 
of  the  United  States  and  voters  in  their  respective 
States.  The  Declaration  of  Independence,  with  its 
lofty  and  immortal  truth, — "ALL  men  are  created  FREE 
and  EQUAL," — was  to  him  a  clear  and  constant  guide. 
In  this  grand,  germinal  truth,  he  saw  the  only  true 
and  final  rule  of  government,  and  he  pressed  towards 
its  practical  realization  with  eager  and  unfaltering  steps. 


284  CHARLES   SUMKER. 

He  had  heard  this  sacred  tenet  of  the  Fathers  flouted  in 
the  Senate  as  a  "  self-evident  lie,"  but  he  only  bore  it 
the  more  proudly  and  conspicuously  on  his  shield  until 
he  could  gratefully  say,  "The  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence,  so  lately  a  dishonored  tradition,  is  now  the  rubric 
and  faith  of  the  Republic."  God  be  praised !  he  found 
at  last  that  "  Union,  where  Liberty,  seeking  a  firm  foot 
hold ,  might  have  whereon  to  stand  and  move  the  world." 

Once  only  in  all  this  splendid  and  faithful  career  did 
CHARLES  SUMNER  part  company  with  the  great  mass  of 
the  friends  of  Freedom,  and  on  this  he  needs  no  silence. 

Differing,  as  I  could  not  but  differ,  from  his  judgment 
in  the  last  national  campaign,  I  point  to  it  to-day  as  one 
of  the  highest  proofs  cf  his  utter  devotion  to  the  call  of 
duty.  Still  was  he  true,  utterly  true,  to  his  convictions, 
to  the  commanding  voice  of  Conscience.  He  had  been 
faithful  in  defeat ;  could  he  be  faithful  in  success  ?  Draw 
no  veil  of  silence  over  this  passage ;  but  write  it  high 
on  his  monument, — that  in  old  age,  when  the  weary 
frame  longed  for  repose,  he  could  again  brace  himself 
for  the  conflict  in  which  nearly  all  of  the  friends  of  a 
lifetime  stood  arrayed  against  him. 

"Nothing  is  here  for  tears;  nothing  to  wail 
Or  knock  the  breast;   no  weakness,  no  contempt, 
Dispraise  or  blame;  nothing  but  well  and  fair." 

As  his  life  was  wholly  consecrated  to  Duty,  so  his 
death  was  wanting  in  no  element  of  moral  grandeur. 
He  fell  with  armor  on,  with  face  still  inflexibly  turned 
towards  present  duties,  fronting  eternity  with  the  simple 
trust  which  God  gives  to  his  faithful  servant.  With  no 


ORATION   BY   ROBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  285 

vague  dread  or  anxiety  concerning  the  Future,  he  bore 
his  earthly  cares  and  duties  to  the  threshold  of  Eter 
nity,  and  laid  down  the  burdens  of  life  only  at  the  feet 
of  his  Divine  Master.  "  Don't  let  my  Civil  Rights  Bill 
fail,"  was  his  fitting  adieu  to  Earth  and  greeting  to 
Heaven. 

Fellow-citizens,  the  life  of  CHARLES  SUMNER  needs 
no  interpreter.  It  is  an  open,  illuminated  page.  The 
ends  he  aimed  at  were  always  high ;  the  means  he  used 
were  always  direct.  Neither  deception  nor  indirection, 
neither  concealment  nor  disguise  of  any  kind  or  degree, 
had  place  in  his  nature  or  methods.  By  open  means 
he  sought  open  ends.  He  walked  in  the  sunlight,  and 
wrote  his  heart's  inmost  purpose  on  bis  forehead.' 

His  activity  and  capacity  of  intellectual  labor  were 
almost  unequalled.  Confined  somewhat  by  the  over 
shadowing  nature  of  the  Anti-Slavery  cause  in  the  range 
of  his  topics,  he  multiplied  his  blows  and  redoubled  the 
energy  of  his  assaults  upon  that  great  enemy  of  his 
country's  peace.  Here  his  vigor  knew  no  bounds.  He 
laid  all  ages  and  lands  under  contribution.  Scholarship 
in  all  its  walks — history,  art,  literature,  science — all 
these  he  made  his  aids  and  servitors. 

But  who  does  not  see  that  these  are  not  his  glory? 
He  was  a  scholar  among  scholars ;  an  orator  of  consum 
mate  power ;  a  statesman  familiar  with  the  structure  of 
governments  and  the  social  forces  of  the  wrorld.  But  he 
was  greater  and  better  than  one  or  all  of  these  ;  he  was 
a  man  of  absolute  moral  rectitude  of  purpose  and  of  life. 
His  personal  purity  was  perfect,  and  unquestioned  every- 


286  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

where.  He  carried  morals  into  politics.  And  this  is 
the  greatness  of  CHARLES  SUMNER, — that  by  the  power 
of  his  moral  enthusiasm  he  rescued  the  nation  from  its 
shameful  subservience  to  the  demands  of  material  and 
commercial  interests,  and  guided  it  up  to  the  high  plane 
of  Justice  and  Right.  Above  his  other  great  qualities 
towers  that  moral  greatness  to  which  scholarship,  ora 
tory,  and  statesmanship  are  but  secondary  and  insignifi 
cant.  He  was  just  because  he  loved  Justice ;  he  was 
right  because  he  loved  Eight.  Let  this  be  his  record 
and  epitaph. 

To  have  lived  such  a  life  were  glory  enough.  Suc 
cess  was  not  needed  to  perfect  its  star-bright,  immortal 
beauty.  But  success  came.  What  amazing  contrasts 
did  his  life  witness  !  He  heard  the  hundred  guns  which 
Boston  fired  for  the  passage  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act ; 
and  he  saw  Boston  sending  forth,  with  honors  and  bless 
ings,  a  regiment  of  fugitive  slaves  to  save  that  Union 
which  the  crime  of  her  Webster  had  imperilled.  He 
saw  Franklin  Pierce  employing  the  power  of  the  nation 
to  force  back  one  helpless  fugitive  to  the  hell  of  Slav 
ery  ;  and  he  saw  Abraham  Lincoln  write  the  edict  of 
Emancipation.  He  heard  Taney  declare  that  "  the  black 
man  had  no  rights  which  the  white  man  was  bound  to 
respect " ;  and  he  welcomed  Eevels  to  his  seat  as  a  Sen 
ator  of  the  United  States. 

But  as  defeat  could  not  damp  his  ardor,  so  success 
could  not  abate  his  zeal.  He  fell  while  bearing  aloft 
the  same  banner  of  Human  Rights  which,  twenty-eight 
years  before,  he  had  unfurled  and  lifted  in  this  hall. 

The  blessings  of  the  poor  are  his  laurels.     One  sacred 


OBATIOIST   BY   EGBERT   B.    ELLIOTT.  287 

thought, — Duty, — presided  over  his  life,  inspiring  him 
in  youth,  guiding  him  in  manhood,  strengthening  him 
in  age.  Be  it  ours  to  walk  by  the  light  of  this  pure 
example.  Be  it  ours  to  copy  his  stainless  integrity,  his 
supreme  devotion  to  Humanity,  his  profound  faith  in 
Truth,  and  his  unconquerable  moral  enthusiasm. 

Adieu !  great  Servant  and  Apostle  of  Liberty !  If 
others  forget  thee,  thy  fame  shall  be  guarded  by  the 
millions  of  that  emancipated  race  whose  gratitude  shall 
be  more  enduring  than  monumental  marble  or  brass. 


SERMON  BY  HENRY  ¥.  FOOTE, 


PREACHED   AT 


ING'S     CHAPEL 

SUNDAY,  MARCH  22,  1874. 
37 


SERMON. 


"Righteousness  exalteth  a  nation:  but  sin  is  a  reproach,  to  any 
people." 

"  For,  behold,  the  Lord,  the  Lord  of  hosts,  doth  take  away  from 
Jerusalem  and  from  Judah  the  stay  and  the  staff,  the  whole  stay  of 
bread  and  the  whole  stay  of  water,  .  .  .  the  honorable  man  and 
the  counsellor,  .  .  .  and  the  eloquent  orator." 

"I  will  make  a  man  more  precious  than  fine  gold:  even  a  man 
than  the  golden  wedge  of  Ophir." — Prov.  xiv:  34;  Is.  .iii:  1,  3; 
xiii :  12. 


THE  Old  Testament  might  be  called  the  New  Test 
(if  we  cared  to  play  upon  words), — the  most  modern 
touchstone  to  which  we  can  bring  character  and  duty, 
public  or  private.  There  are  those,  indeed,  who  deem 
it  to  be  obsolete  because  it  is  old, — a  method  of  rea 
soning  which  would  banish  the  light  of  the  solar  system 
from  the  universe,  nay,  which  would  abolish  the  uni 
verse  itself  as  utterly  antediluvian.  But  the  fathers  of 
New  England  knew  the  rock  on  which  they  builded, 
when  they  strove  to  found  their  commonwealth  on  the 
eternal  principles  which  they  read  on  the  ancient  tables 
of  stone ;  and  the  living  waters  of  conscience  and  duty 
which  have  quickened  the  souls  of  their  children,  which 
are  the  hope  of  the  Republic  to-day,  have  flowed  forth 
from  those  granitic  summits  of  immemorial  law,  as  the 
stream  gushed  forth  from  the  rock  which  Moses  smote. 


292  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

There  are  those,  too,  who  sometimes  deem  that  reli 
gion  belongs  in  a  region  apart  from  the  strifes  and 
questions  of  political  life.  And  this  is  partly  true. 
Keligion  is  at  home  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration, 
above  the  smoke  of  the  camp-fires  and  the  noise  of 
conflicts,  where  the  heaven  is  nearer;  but  she  does  not 
take  men  up  with  her  there  unless  she  meets  them  in 
the  plain,  where  in  the  dust  and  heat  of  conflict  she  is 
a  light  on  their  way  and  an  inspiration  in  their  spirit. 
We  should  all  agree  that  questions  of  the  day  should 
not  be  made  a  religion  of;  that  the  church  is  no  place 
for  criminations  or  discords.  But  religion  should  be 
made  a  question  of  the  day, — every  day.  And  since 
she  should  be  the  most  vital  factor  in  every  personal 
duty,  and  since  no  duty  is  more  personal  to  every  man 
and  woman,  under  a  system  of  government  like  ours, 
than  that  which  concerns  the  public  weal,  it  follows 
that  the  church  has  sometimes  the  necessity  laid  upon 
it  of  trying  to  show  how  religion  bears  on  public  duty 
and  public  service.  And  here,  again,  the  Old  Testament 
fairly  blazes  with  light.  It  may  almost  be  termed  the 
great  Manual  of  Political  Duty ;  and  we  need  ask  no 
better  test  of  its  inspired  power  to  mould  humanity 
towards  the  ideal  future  than  is  afforded  by  comparing 
its  starry  words,  glowing  in  the  firmament  of  truth  with 
the  light  of  justice  and  freedom,  with  the  wisest  maxims 
of  the  masters  in  statecraft,  from  Machiavelli's  Prince 
and  the  Testament  of  Peter  the  Great  of  Russia,  to  the 
Bismarckiau  theory  of  a  diplomacy  gangrened  with 
falsehood,  or  the  idea  that  a  nation  is  to  be  ruled  by 
packing  a  caucus.  When  you  come  to  deal  with  any 


SERMON   BY   HENRY   W.    FOOTE.  293 

question  of  public  morals,  or  when  you  seek  for  words 
with  which  to  describe  a  faithful  public  servant,  the 
difficulty  is  not  how  to  find,  but  what  to  choose,  out 
of  the  riches  of  this  Old  Testament,  so  New. 

Our  texts  strike  the  chord  to  which  our  thoughts 
must  perforce  attune  themselves  to-day.  A  certain 
theme  is  laid  down  for  us  by  the  proud  duty  which  fell 
to  this  church  of  being  the  voice  of  this  dear  old  Com 
monwealth  of  Massachusetts  in  her  public  service  of 
mourning  for  one  who  had  served  her  so  long  in  the 

o  o 

highest  office  in  her  gift.  I  could  not,  if  I  would,  put 
aside  the  task  which  seems  to  be  written  for  me  in  the 
signs  of  public  mourning  which  still  remain  on  these 
walls. 

The  part  which  this  church  took  in  those  solemn 
offices  was  due,  as  you  know,  not  to  our  basing  any 
claim  upon  the  former  connection  of  Senator  SUMNER 
with  this  church,  but  to  our  placing  the  church  at  the 
service  of  the  State  government  for  the  rites  of  honor 
which  it  sought  to  render;  and  these  dark  drapiugs 
still  hang  here,  in  sympathy  with  the  legislative  vote 
which  retains  them  at  the  Capitol  during  the  period  of 
public  mourning,  because  we  were  a  part  of  the  State 
and  acted  for  the  State.  Yet  there  was  a  special  litness 
— a  sort  of  family  right — in  our  association  in  those 
memorable  services  when  the  streets  of  the  city  were 
like  the  aisles  of  a  crowded  church,  and  this  house  of 
prayer  was  as  a  central  chapel.  For  many  years  of  his 
life  were  rooted  in  this  church ;  his  father  was  its  clerk 
during  a  part  of  the  Senator's  childhood  ;  his  mother  I 
knew  well,  as  her  pastor,  in  the  gentle  loveliness  of  an 


294  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

old  age,  subdued  by  the  chastening  of  many  and  singu 
lar  sorrows ;  and  we  have  a  right  to  think  that  probably 
the  clarion  call  of  the  Gospel  wrought  within  him,  more 
than  he  was  himself  aware,  from  the  Christian  teaching 
of  those  faithful  men  and  lovers  of  truth  and  righteous 
ness  whose  names  are  our  heritage  and  our  inspiration. 
Yet  I  do  not  propose  to  make  this  the  occasion  for  a 
Commemorative  Discourse  of  Eulogy  :  such  a  discourse 
will  be  given  elsewhere,  and  by  one  qualified  to  speak, 
— as  the  Legislature  may  determine.  Much  has  been 
already  said  by  distinguished  men  in  public  places,  and 
the  time  for  Congressional  Eulogy  is  still  to  come.  My 
duty  here  is  other  than  that, — very  simple,  yet  very 
true.  It  is,  to  try  to  impress  on  ourselves,  while  the 
feeling  of  the  hour  is  fresh,  some  of  the  principles  which 
we  need  more  than  ever  to  insist  on  in  our  judgments 
of  public  duty  and  our  actions  as  faithful  citizens.  I 
would  say  nothing  to  open  old  feuds  or  strifes,  now 
forever  silenced ;  nor  is  it  needful  to  stir  the  embers  of 
that  fire  of  controversy  which  consumed  the  nation  for 
so  long, — now  happily  turned  to  ashes  and  as  far  back 
of  us  as  the  flood.  I  pray  that  no  word  of  mine  may 
bring  us  down  from  the  high  level  of  a  common  sympathy, 
in  which,  as  at  great  moments  of  our  war,  the  whole 
heart  of  this  Commonwealth  has  been  melted  into  one. 
There  is,  indeed,  something  sublime  in  the  healing  and 
reconciling  work  which  is  wrought  by  death.  Out  of 
that  silence  comes  to  us  a  deeper  lesson  than  all  the 
voices  of  life  have  ever  been  able  to  bring  home  to  us. 

"  That  which  the  open  book  could  never  teach 
The  closed  one  whispers." 


SERMON   BY   HENRY   W.    FOOTE.  295 

We  feel  this  when  we  stand  beside  the  humblest  and 
poorest  clay  that  has  enshrined  an  immortal  spirit.  But 
how  much  more  when  it  is  one  who  has  been  a  power 
in  the  land,  whose  name  has  been  a  watchword  of  pas 
sionate  admiration  and  of  intensest  opposition,  who  has 
been  a  factor  in  the  history  of  a  tremendous  period, 
not  to  be  left  out  in  the  tracing  of  causes  and  results! 
When  sudden  stillness  falls  on  such  a  one,  and  all  the 
tumult  of  tongues  is  quieted  or  turned  to  a  rivalry  in 
praise  of  things  not  always  so  greatly  valued  while  they 
were  with  us,  how  falsely  does  it  seem  that  we  speak 
of  him  who  brings  this  to  pass  as  "the  king  of  terrors" ! 
Rather  does  he  seem  to  come  as  the  angel  of  peace. 
And  we  may  well  say,  with  Sir  Walter  Ealeigh,  "  O 
eloquent,  just,  and  mighty  Death !  whom  none  could 
advise,  them  hast  persuaded ;  what  none  hath  dared, 
thou  hath  done ;  and  whom  all  the  world  hath  flattered, 
thou  only  hast  cast  out  of  the  world  and  despised. 
Thou  hast  drawn  together  all  the  far-stretched  great 
ness,  all  the  pride  and  ambition  of  man,  and  covered  it 
all  over  with  these  two  narrow  words,  *  Hie  jacet.'" 
Yes !  He  covers  over  those  things  which  partook  of 
mortal  weakness  and  infirmity;  but  the  things  which 
are  immortal,  great  memories  of  great  gifts,  faithful 
thoughts  of  faithfulnesses  to  conscience,  tried  experience 
of  long  fidelity, — these  are  not  covered,  but  now  first 
begin  to  be  revealed  and  fruitful  in  the  fullest  sense, 
as  the  seeds  of  a  flower  foil  from  the  bursting  capsule 
on  fertile  ground. 

There  is  no  higher  calling  in  human  society  than  that 
of  the  public  service  in  a  nation  of  freemen.  Ambition 


296  CHARLES    SUMNEK. 

iii  this  direction  is  a  worthy  ambition.  It  is  the  duty 
of  every  man  that  he  should  be  ready  to  meet  the 
obligation  of  such  service  if  it  comes  to  him  ;  \ve  should 
train  our  children  to  this  readiness  as  one  of  the  most 
imperative  duties  of  manhood.  But  this  ambition  may 
be  a  lamp  to  lighten  the  path  of  him  who  walks  in  it, 
with  lofty  purposes,  thorough  preparations,  righteous 
scorn  of  every  mean  and  low  thing ;  or  it  may  be  a 
snare  and  pitfall  to  his  conscience,  causing  him  to  stumble 
in  winding  and  slippery  ways, — if  he  reach  the  coveted 
place  only  dragging  down  its  honor  to  his  own  base  level. 
The  one  is  a  noble  flame,  kindling  the  spirit  to  climb  the 
hard 

"  Steep,  where  Fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar," 

And  to  write  one's  name  high  among  the  benefactors  of 
the  human  race :  the  other  is  the  degradation  and  often 
the  ruin  of  the  nation  which  it  plagues.  But  as  the 
public  service  is  perhaps  the  highest,  and  certainly  the 
most  shining,  so  is  it  also  the  most  difficult  way  of  duty. 
I  say  nothing  of  the  storms  of  obloquy  from  foes,  or 
the  beclouding  influence  of  flattery  from  false  or  unwise 
friends.  These  may  be  hard  to  endure  or  to  resist;  but 
the  arduousness  of  high  responsibility  is  not  here,  but 
in  the  responsibility  itself.  For  consider  what  various 
qualifications — and  how  impossible  to  unite  in  a  single 
person — are  demanded  to  meet  all  the  exigencies  of  a 
great  place  in  the  councils  of  a  nation.  What  kind  of 
man  should  a  great  people  desire  to  fulfil  all  the  ideal 
possibilities  of  high  public  service  ?  He  should  be, 
should  he  not,  a  combination  of  the  recluse  scholar  and 


SERMON  BY  HENRY  W.  FOOTE.       297 

of  the  practical  man  of  affairs  ;  wise  with  the  wisdom 
of  books  and  with  the  deeper  wisdom  of  experience  in 
human  nature ;  reading  the  history  of  the  past  as  an 
open  page,  and  learning  from  it  the  lessons  so  easy  for 
a  nation  to  be  taught  by  others'  experience, — since  all 
nations  are  made  up  of  the  same  human  nature, — so 
costly  for  a  nation  to  be  taught  by  its  own  mistakes ; 
reading  the  characters  of  men  by  that  trained  instinct 
which  cannot  be  deceived.  He  should  be  practised  in 
the  school  of  statesmanship,  that  highest  and  most  diffi 
cult  of  arts,  which  consists  not  in  managing  men  by 
their  low  and  base  motives,  for  mere  party  success,  but 
in  shaping  the  policy,  whether  commercial  or  moral,  of 
a  great  nation,  with  far-seeing  perception  of  the  causes 
that  lead  to  prosperity  or  to  decay.  He  should  be 
kindled  by  the  ardor  of  great  convictions  of  truth  and 
righteousness,  ready  to  face  unpopularity  for  the  faith 
that  is  in  him,  yet  never  hasty  or  unjust ;  with  a  calm, 
deep  comprehension  of  the  views  most  opposed  to  his 
own,  able  to  do  justice  to  their  convictions,  and  to  find 
every  ground  of  conciliation  and  mutual  respect.  Strong 
with  a  commanding  personality,  and  with  powers  able 
to  compel  respectful  recognition,  he  should  fulfil  that 
Eastern  proverb  which  says,  "A  man  that  knoweth  the 
just  value  of  himself  doth  not  perish,"  yet  should  have 
that  respect  for  others'  judgment  which  most  surely 
wins  their  assent  to  the  influence  of  a  stronger  nature, 
and  should  be  untinged  by  that  self-reference  which 
centres  the  universe  in  itself.  Eloquent  with  a  manly 
strain,  the  power  of  his  persuasion  should  never  be 
embittered  by  words  of  personality  or  scorn.  To  bor- 

38 


298  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

row  a  figure  from  science,  the  spectrum  of  his  speech 
should  be  rich  in  the  rays  of  light,  rather  than  in  those 
of  heat.  He  should  be  before  his  time  in  vision,  yet 
with  his  time  in  comprehending  sympathy  ;  with  forward- 
looking  sight,  but  backward-reaching  hand,  to*  lift  his 
people  to  his  level.  Must  we  say,  in  the  Republic 
which  Washington  founded,  in  the  State  which  sent  the 
incorruptible  Pickering  to  his  counsels  in  war  and  peace, 
and  has  inscribed  the  names  of  John  Adams  and  John 
Quincy  Adams  on  the  roll  of  his  successors,  that  such 
a  public  servant  must  have  an  integrity  above  suspicion, 
with  hands  clean  from  money -getting  and  from  office- 
seeking, — that  he  should  have  a  lofty  independence  and 
a  single  eye  to  the  public  good  ?  We  live  in  a  day 
when  these  plain  dictates  of  honor  and  conscience  are 
distinctions  to  be  named  with  praise.  He  should  be 
crystal  pure  from  the  vices  of  passion  or  of  meanness, 
clad  in  an  asbestos  robe  of  principle  to  walk  through 
the  tires  of  the  temptations  which  beset  public  life  with 
out  so  much  as  tlie  smell  of  smoke  upon  his  garments. 
He.  should  sit  at  the  ieet  of  no  human  master,  but  he 
should  have  sat  at  the  feet  of  Christ.  The  eternal 
principles  of  His  Gospel  of  righteousness  should  glow 
in  his  heart,  and  the  wisdom  of  his  law  of  kindness 
should  pervade  his  conduct  with  its  fragrant  breath, 
while  in  the  lowly  faith  of  a  disciple  he  should  be  "as 
a  little  child."  Of  a  public  servant  so  endowed,  it  may 
well  be  said,  in  the  words  of  the  prophet,  "  I  will  make 
a  man  more  precious  than  tine  gold :  even  a  man  than 
the  golden  wedge  of  Ophir." 

And  now,  if   we   look  at  the  distinguished  record    of 


SERMON   BY   HEXRY   W.    FOOTE.  299 

that  eminent  servant  of  the  nation  whose  finished  life  is 
close  to  our  thoughts  to-day, — not  in  the  spirit  of  indis 
criminate  eulogy,  but  in  the  dispassionate  attempt  to 
anticipate  the  judgment  of  another  generation,  with  that 
frank  independence  of  judgment  which  he  himself  sig 
nally  illustrated,  we  shall  surely  say,  Some  of  these 
great  qualities  Senator  SUMNER  had  in  abounding  meas 
ure  ;  in  others  he  was  lacking.  Perhaps  no  man  ever 
lived  so  all-sided  as  to  have  them  all :  he  who  has  the 
greater  part  of  them  must  stand  high  in  the  remem 
brance  of  a  grateful  country,  especially  when  the  traits 
which  distinguish  him  are  those  which  the  land  needs 
to  brace  its  conscience  and  renew  the  integrity  of  its 
will. 

It  has  been  the  fortune  of  Mr.  SUMNER  to  be  asso 
ciated  more  intimately  than  any  other  public  man  with  the 
most  agitating  questions  of  our  time.  And  this  was  no 
accident,  but  essential  in  the  very  nature  of  the  man. 
From  the  very  beginning,  his  character  was  a  blending 
of  two  sides  of  character  rarely  united, — strenuous  self- 
culture,  and  earnest,  if  not  defiant,  championship  of  the 
redress  of  wrongs.  I  do  not  need  here  to  retrace  the 
familiar  story  in  detail,  or  to  recapitulate  what  is  in  part 
so  well  known  to  his  fellow-townsmen,  and  is  in  large 
part  written  on  the  history  of  the  country  itself.  Of 
the  years  of  study  in  our  Boston  schools,  at  the  neigh 
boring  University  (to  which  his  noble  bequest  has  testi 
fied  to  his  enduring  filial  affection),  in  his  close  relation 
of  pupil  with  master  with  Judge  Story,  of  his  studious 
years  at  foreign  universities  and  in  London,  at  a  time 
when  foreign  study  was  comparatively  rare,  he  might 


300  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

truly  have  said,  in  the  words  of  the  English  poet  whom 
he  loved  so  well : — 

"When  I  was  yet  a  child,  no  childish  play 
To  me  was  pleasing;   all  my  mind  was  set 
Serious  to  learn  and  know,  and  thence  to  do 
What  might  be  public  good;   myself  I  thought 
Born  to  that  end,  born  to  promote  all  truth, 
All  righteous  things." 

He  returned  here  with  marked  distinction  at  the  same 
age  at  which  Milton  again  wrote  to  his  friend  Diodati, 
"  Do  you  ask  what  I  am  thinking  of?  So  may  the  good 
God  help  me,  of  immortality."  Or  it  might  have  been 
the  words  of  his  own  friend,  De  Tocqueville,  in  which 
he  might  have  said,  "Life  is  neither  a  pleasure  nor  a 
pain,  but  a  serious  business  which  it  is  our  duty  to 
carry  through  and  to  terminate  with  honor."  Eleven 
intervening  years  were  filled  with  various  labors, — pro 
fessional,  literary,  and  philanthropic, — which  I  do  not 
need  to  enlarge  on  here.  Meantime,  the  ominous  cloud 
which  rose  above  the  horizon  with  the  annexation  of 
Texas  spread  and  darkened  more  and  more ;  the  war 
with  Mexico  followed ;  then  came  the  dark  days  of 
1850,  when  a  call  rang  through  the  land,  parting  friend 
from  friend,  brother  from  brother.  The  student  of  his 
tory  finds  in  those  years  the  seeds  sown  which  were 
harvested  in  civil  war,  and  finds  that  Mr.  SUMNER  was 
each  year  more  prominent  as  one  of  the  voices  of  the 
ever-growing  conviction  against  slavery  in  New  Eng 
land.  He  was  a  little  more  than  forty  years  of  age, — 
that  stage  of  life  when,  as  he  once  said,  "according  to 


SERMON  BY  HENHY  W.  FOOTE.       301 

a  foreign  proverb,  a  man  has  given  to  the  worlcl  his 
full  measure," — when  he  was  chosen  to  succeed  Mr. 
Webster  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  The 
Quaker  poet  of  New  England  tells  me  that  at  this  time 
he  confessed  to  him  that  he  had  a  great  ambition,  but 
not  for  political  life, — that  his  ambition  was  to  become 
a  jurist,  or  to  write  history.  In  that  desire  he  would 
have  satisfied  the  needs  of  half  of  his  nature, — the  con 
templative  side;  but  the  other  half,  the  side  of  action, 
could  never  have  been  content  without  a  great  field  of 

o 

action  and  of  power.  And  what  a  field  it  was  on 
which  the  Senator  from  Massachusetts  entered  in  that 
stormy  time  !  As  I  have  stood  within  the  halls  of  the 
old  Senate-chamber,  plain  and  bare,  which  shook  with 
the  thunders  of  Webster's  reply  to  Hayne,  or  within 
the  palatial  new  chamber,  which  saw  the  working  out 
of  the  drama  of  the  civic  side  of  the  great  war  for  the 
Union,  and  the  associations  of  the  place  have  crowded 
upon  me,  and  I  have  remembered  what  echoes  those 
walls  would  give  could  they  but  speak  what  they  had 
heard,  it  has  seemed  to  me  that  no  place  on  earth  was 
such  a  sphere  for  worthy  action  or  such  a  point  of  lev 
erage  for  the  eloquence  which  would  not  end  in  words, 
but  shape  the  public  will  of  a  nation.  Rufus  Choate, 
who  knew  it  well,  wrote  to  Mr.  SUMNER,  "How  does 
the  Senate  strike  you?  The  best  place  this  day  on 
earth  for  reasoned  and  thoughtful  yet  stimulant  public 
speech."  "When  I  think  what  it  requires,"  wrote  Mr. 
SUMNER  himself,  on  his  election,  "I  am  obliged  to  say 
that  its  honors  are  all  eclipsed  by  its  duties."  To  such 
a  sphere  the  Senator  from  Massachusetts  came, — one  of 


302  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

the  youngest  of  that  august  body,  without  experience 
in  public  affairs,  the  bold  and  outspoken  representative 
of  a  small  minority  in  Congress  and  of  a  growing  fire 
in  the  North.  Ten  days  ago  he  was  the  senior  member 
of  the  body,  trained  by  twenty-three  years  of  its  great 
duties, — a  longer  sum  of  years  than  the  office  had  been 
held  by  any  Massachusetts  Senator  since  the  foundation 
of  the  Republic, — and  he  had  seen  the  words,  which 
when  he  spoke  them  were  deemed  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
fanatic,  surpassed  by  the  stupendous  reality  of  the  his 
tory  through  which  we  have  lived.  He  might  have 
applied  in  his  own  case  the  words  in  which  Mr.  Mill, 
in  his  autobiography,  speaks  of  some  matters  in  his 
own  parliamentary  career :  "My  advocacy  of"  them  was 
"at  the  time  looked  upon  by  many  as  personal  whims 
of  my  own ;  but  the  great  progress  since  made  by  those 
opinions,  and  especially  the  response  made  from  almost 
all  parts  of  the  kingdom  to  the  demand,  fully  justified 
the  timeliness  of  those  movements,  and  have  made  what 
was  undertaken  as  a  moral  and  social  duty  a  personal 
success."  The  fiery  heats  of  those  years  before  the  war 
the  next  generation  can  never  know;  for  the  battle 
which  they  will  have  to  fight  has  but  one  side, — the 
fight  of  honesty  against  corruption :  while  the  hardest 
part  of  the  struggle  which  preceded  the  downfall  of 
Slavery  was  that  men  at  the  North,  equally  good,  equally 
true,  were  on  opposite  sides,  and  each  could  hardly 
avoid  misjudging  the  other.  "The  high  contention"  is 
now  " hidden  by  the  little  handful  of  earth";  but  in  its 
record  future  generations  will  trace  the  manifest  upheaval 
of  the  tremendous  forces  which  were  to  shake  the  nation 


SERMON   BY   HENRY   W.   FOOTE.  303 

to  its  foundations.  It  was  the  fateful  blow  struck  by  a 
mad  hand  in  answer  to  words  spoken  by  him  in  his  place 
as  Senator  which  made  Mr.  SUMNER  a  symbol  of  the 
Northern  idea.  From  that  hour,  the  silence  of  his 
suffering  spoke  with  a  louder  tongue  than  his  most 
intense  words.  Then  came  the  war,  when  the  strife  of 
tongues  gave  way  to  the  strife  of  arms ;  and  for  ten 
years,  as  Chairman  of  the  Senate  Committee  of  Foreign 
Relations,  he  filled  one  of  the  most  important  posts  in 
the  Government  so  as  to  win  the  respect  alike  of  enemies 
and  friends ;  and  then  three  years  of  loneliness  as  "  a 
voice  crying  in  a  desert,  Make  the  crooked  straight 
and  the  rough  places  plain " ;  and  the  scarred  warrior, 
who  had  been  in  the  forefront  of  the  battles  of  his  time, 
passed  from  storm  into  rest.  He  had  reached  what  he 
himself  once  called  "the  grand  climacteric,  that  Cape 
of  Storms  in  the  sea  of  human  existence." 

He  was  buried  with  the  mighty  mourning  of  a  sovereign 
State,  as  befitted  the  first  Senator  from  Massachusetts 
(with  one  exception  only)  who  ever  died  in  office, — the 
Senator  who  had  held  office  for  nearly  a  generation  of 
incorruptible  life,  the  faithful  voice  of  liberty  and  jus 
tice.  Such  is  the  barest  outline  of  the  external  history 
of  those  tremendous  years  when  "the  fountains  of  the 
great  deep  were  broken  up,"  and  that  commanding 
presence  was  always  where  the  storm  was  wildest. 

And  now,  when  we  ask  for  the  secret  of  his  power, 
we  find  it,  first,  in  that  which  was  a  weakness  as  well 
as  a  strength, — namely,  the  strong  imperiousness  of 
his  convictions.  He  could  not  overstate  them,  they 
were  so  pronounced  and  positive ;  nor  could  he  easily 
deal  justly  with  opponents.  Political  charity  is  the 


304  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

rarest  of  the  virtues, — rarer,  by  a  strange  law,  in  pro 
portion  to  the  moral  and  philanthropic  quality  of  the 
opinions  which  one  holds.  The  very  fact  that  con 
science  and  the  sense  of  right  are  so  engaged  makes  it 
well-nigh  impossible  to  see  how  the  conscience  of  hon 
orable  and  good  men  may  be  engaged  in  adverse  views. 
O  hard  fate,  when  the  sense  of  justice  to  an  oppressed 
race  contended  with  the  sense  of  duty  to  a  bond  whose 
rupture  might  cause  the  sun  of  the  Union  to  go  down 
in  blood,  and  good  men  among  us,  both  hating  the 
giant  wrong,  both  loving  the  starry  constellation  of  the 
States,  were  sundered  by  an  impassable  gulf!  It  was 
in  the  nature  of  the  man  who  swung  wrhat  he  called 
"the  great  Northern  hammer"  to  strike  hard  and  stern 
blows ;  and  if  in  his  record  are  found  words  which  pass 
the  mutual  respect  of  high  debate,  or  which  follow  the 
method  of  prophetic  denunciation  rather  than  that  of 
statesmanlike  conciliation,  we  cannot  doubt  that  now, 
out  of  the  wisdom  of  death,  he  would  speak  to  us  to 
say  that  if  he  could  live  his  life  over,  he  would  do 
some  things  differently. 

But  other  men  have  had  convictions  as  strong  and 
imperious  as  his  without  becoming  identified  with  them 
as  the  acknowledged  exponent  and  representative  of  a 
principle.  His  strength  was  in  the  identity  of  his  prin 
ciple  with  that  of  New  England.  He  was  "a  Puritan 
idealist."  In  all  its  differences  of  form,  there  lived 
in  him  that  most  persistent  type,  which  has  impressed 
its  character  on  the  civilization  of  our  whole  country, 
which  was  strong  enough  to  subdue  granite  and  ice 
and  make  a  home  for  their  children.  The  Puritans 
were  impracticable  men, — a  projectile  cast  into  Eng- 


SERMON  BY  HENRY  W.  FOOTE.       305 

land,  of  such  tremendous  explosive  force  that  when  it 
burst,  the  fragments  flew  across  three  thousand  miles  of 
ocean.  They  were  men  of  narrow  conscience,  and  like 
some  strong  stream,  the  deeper  and  the  more  resistless 
in  its  flow  because  of  the  very  narrowness.  Their 
indomitable  spirit  is  cast  into  a  word  by  "Andrew 
Fletcher,  whose  heroical  uprightness  amid  the  trials  of 
his  time,  has  become  immortal  in  the  saying,  that  he 
'  would  readily  lose  his  life  to  serve  his  country,  but 
would  not  do  a  base  thing  to  save  it.' "  The  children 
of  the  Puritans  are  still  the  same ;  and  we,  who  are  of 
them,  can  afford  to  acknowledge  that  the  fathers  would 
have  been  sometimes  hard  to  live  among,  and  that  there 
is  danger  that  even  conscience  and  zeal  for  righteous 
ness  may  be  at  times  obstinate  and  one-sided.  But  one 
thing  is  certain, — that  when  these  things  are  in  the  line 
of  the  ideas  of  justice,  freedom,  abstract  right,  they 
have  irresistible  power,  over  the  mind  of  the  race  which 
has  grown  on  our  rocky  soil.  Men  who  are  tempered 
with  this  spirit  are  better  fitted  to  point  a  thunderbolt 
than  to  weld  a  nation ;  they  belong  in  the  time  when 
controversy  has  passed  beyond  compromise.  So  far 
from  sympathizing  with  that  rule  of  practical  states 
manship  which  old  Hesiod  sings, — 

"  Half  is  more  than  the  whole," 

There  can  be  for  them  nothing  less  than  the  ideal  whole. 
The  only  rule  of  yielding  or  giving  up  what  they  know 
is  in  that  saying  of  another  Greek, — 

"  We  must  sacrifice  to  Truth  alone." 


306  CHARLES    SUMMER. 

It  was  the  power  of  the  Senator  that  he  voiced  this 
intense  Puritan  strain  in  the  ideas  of  the  New  England 
conscience.  Said  one  of  his  most  ardent  friends  of 
him,  in  the  heat  of  a  political  campaign:  He  is  "pa 
tient  in  labor,  untiring  in  effort y  boundless  in  resources, 
terribly  in  earnest,  .  .  .  the  Stonewall  Jackson  of 
the  floor  of  the  Senate,  .  .  .  both  ideologists,  both 
horsed  on  an  idea." 

Essentially  characteristic  of  this  moral  intensity,  which 
makes  the  typical  New  England  character  like  one  of 
those  Iceland  geysers,  a  boiling  hot  spring  in  the  heart 
of  the  glacier,  is  an  elevated  confidence  .in  one's  own 
intentions,  tending  in  small  natures  to  self-absorption, 
but  in  great  natures  to  utter  absorption  in  a  great 
cau&e,  and  giving  an  assurance  of  right  which  could 
make  the  Senator  choose  for  the  motto  to  his  collected 
works,  the  proud  appeal  with  which  he  would  speak  to 
future  generations,  those  words  of  Leibnitz :  "  Veniet 
fortasse  aliud  tempus,  dignius  nostro,  quo  debellatis 
odiis,  veritas  triumphabit.  Hoc  mecum  opta,  lector,  et 
vale."  One  who  knew  and  loved  him  well  sums  up 
this  characteristic  in  these  words  in  a  letter  to  me : 
"  He  struck  for  the  right  and  was  sure  he  saw  it.  He 
had  a  sublime  confidence  in  his  own  moral  sagacity, 
greater  than  I  have  ever  seen  in  any  man;  and,  let 
me  add,  events  usually  justified  such  confidence." 

And  this  zealous  intensity  in  the  man  was  served  by 
an  indomitable  power  of  work,  such  as  has  rarely  been 
equalled  and  probably  never  surpassed  by  any  one  in 
the  public  service.  1  have  the  testimony  of  two  of  his 
private  secretaries  to  the  fact  that  his  strength  and 


SERMON    BY   HENRY   W.    FOOTE.  307 

fidelity  in  the  unseen  labors  of  his  duty  as  Senator, 
and  on  the  most  responsible  Committee  of  Foreign 
Relations,  exceeded  anything  that  can  be  imagined. 
He  "  toiled  terribly."  The  key-note  of  his  life  is  struck 
in  an  early  lecture  of  his  on  "The  Employment  of 
Time,"  whose  text  is  the  famous  exclamation  of  Titus, 
"I  have  lost  a  day!"  and  he  might  well  leave  as  his 
legacy  to  those  who  would  profit  by  his  example  the 
words  of  Seneca:  "Vita,  si  scias  uti,  longa  est." 
High  office  was  to  him  no  holiday  perch,  but  an 
opportunity  for  more  strenuous  work,  nor  did  anything 
so  chafe  him  as  enforced  abstention  therefrom.  All 
the  wide  resources  of  a  various  learning  were  rein- 

o 

forced  continually  by  special  preparations,  and  he  car 
ried  the  student's  habit  of  toil  into  the  position  where 
men  are  apt  to  think  that  they  are  officially  infallible 
on  all  questions,  from  finance  and  diplomacy  to  the 
filling  of  the  pettiest  office. 

And  this  is  strikingly  shown  by  that  monument  of 
labor,  yet  uncompleted, — the  edition  of  his  Works. 
As  during  the  recent  days  I  have  read  through  the 
seven  volumes,  I  have  been  impressed  with  many 
things,  but  with  none  more  than  this.  From  that 
oration  on  "The  True  Grandeur  of  Nations,"  which 
sounded  again,  in  such  rich  and  high-wrought  strain, 
the  note  which  Rufus  Choate  had  struck  the  year  before 
in  the  United  States  Senate,  when  he  said,  "  War  is 
the  most  ridiculous  of  blunders,  the  most  tremendous 
of  crimes,  the  most  comprehensive  of  evils,"— -an  idea 
emphasized  in  these  words,  which  form  the  key-note  of 
Mr.  SUMNER'S  oration :  "  War  is  known  as  the  Last 


308  CIIATCLES    SUMMER. 

Reason  of  Kings.  Let  it  be  no  reason  of  our  Repub 
lic  : " — to  his  last  speech  in  the  Senate,  there  are  the 
same  characteristics, — a  labored  affluence  of  illustration 
from  the  widest  sources  of  study,  a  style  elaborate 
even  to  excess,  but,  throughout,  the  sense  that  here  is 
one  who  has  made  thorough  preparation  for  the  great 
office  of  advising  the  Elders  of  the  Republic. 

And  one  can  hardly  read  these  volumes  without  a 
deeper  realization  how  truly  the  Senator  was  not  only 
a  prominent  figure,  but  a  powerful  actor  in  the  greatest 
chapter  of  modern  history.  Friends  will  find  nothing 
save  to  admire ;  old  enemies,  much  to  differ  in ;  and 
those  who  have  been  independent  from  personal  ties  or 
by -gone  discords,  both  much  to  admire  and  something 
to  regret.  But  all  must  agree  in  reading  the  super 
scription  of  his  name  on  page  after  page  of  most 
eventful  annals.  If  Abraham  Lincoln  shall  stand  forth 
against  the  black  background  of  the  war  as  the  Crom- 

o  o 

well  of  our  great  struggle,  only  far  purer,  more 
unselfish  than  the  Ironside  Puritan  was,  the  name  of 
the  persistent  friend  of  emancipation,  who  stood  to  him 
in  wellnigh  as  close  a  relation  as  did  his  Latin  Secretary 
to  the  Protector,  will  shine  in  the  same  constellation. 
The  future  historian  will  perhaps  picture  the  two  in 
scenes  which  are  already  recorded, — the  Senator  taking 
his  French  friend  with  him  to  see  the  morning  levee 
which  that  kindly  heart,  all  burdened  with  Presidential 
cares,  yet  found  time  to  give  daily  to  the  poor  who 
needed  him  most, — the  sick  soldier  or  the  poor  widow, 
— with  the  invitation,  "Come  with  ine  and  see  St. 
Louis  under  the  Oak  of  Vincennes " ;  or  the  President, 


SERMON   BY   HEOTtY   "W.    FOOTE.  309 

a  week  before  his  martyrdom,  reading  aloud  to  the 
Senator,  on  the  deck  of  the  steamboat  that  carried 
them  to  evacuated  Richmond,  those  prophetic  lines  in 
Macbeth  :  — 

"  Duncan  is  in  his  grave : 
After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well. 
Treason  has  done  his  worst:  nor  steel,  nor  poison, 
Malice  domestic,  foreign  levy,  nothing 
Can  touch  him  farther !  " 

But  no  future  historian  will  be  able  to  describe  in 
all  its  dramatic  intensity  the  struggle  which  involved 
these  men,  so  different,  and  the  parts  of  the  nation 
which  they  represented, — the  one  eager  always  for  the 
highest  and  furthest  thing,  the  other  gauging  the  exact 
mind  of  the  people  with  that  pre-eminent  political 
sagacity.  He  will  try  to  describe  the  one  "crying 
aloud  and  sparing  not,"  as  the  voice  of  the  most 
advanced  conscience  of  the  North,  the  other  telling 
him  "You  are  only  ahead  of  me  a  month  or  six- 
weeks," — till  at  last  the  proclamation  seals  the  policy 
of  the  government.  He  will  describe  the  growth  of 
the  institution  of  Slavery  on  this  continent,  from  the 
time  when  the  Mayflower,  with  its  cargo  of  liberty,  and 
the  first  slave  ship,  with  its  cargo  of  human  bondage, 
were  crossing  the  ocean  at  the  same  time  in  1620,  to 
the  time  when,  like  the  genie  of  Arabian  fable,  the 
little  cloud,  released  from  the  hold  of  that  vessel, 
darkened  all  the  land,  a  giant  in  strength.  He  will 
tell,  too,  how  the  man  who  spoke  the  intensest  senti 
ment  of  the  North  was  ever  urging  the  principle  of 


310  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

absolute  liberty,  and  would  venture  where  it  seemed 
wild  to  go,  as  the  Douglas  who  bore  the  heart  of 
Bruce  to  the  Holy  Land  threw  his  sacred  trust  far 
before  him  into  the  hosts  of  the  infidel,  to  witness  that 
he  would  never  give  over  his  advance ;  and  then  he 
will  tell  how  the  great  work  was  done  by  the  hands 
of  men  differing  widely  in  their  sentiment  even  on  the 
•great  question  of  universal  liberty,  but  agreeing  in 
being  willing  to  die  for  their  country, — that  not  the 
voice  alone  of  eloquent  oratory,  but  the  deeds  of 
devoted  patriotism  wrought  the  marvel  of  freedom. 
Let  yonder  marble  speak,  with  its  proud  record  of 
men  who  could  be  silent  and  give  their  lives  ;  to  tes 
tify  how  the  great  power  of  the  land  stood  behind  the 
Act  of  Emancipation,  and  made  it,  instead  of  a  bit  of 
paper,  a  reality  !  And  then  think  of  those  long  rows 
of  colored  faces,  the  representatives  of  four  grateful 
millions,  that  on  Monday  last  gleamed  with  hardly 
suppressed  emotion,  as  of  men  parting  with  a  mighty 
friend  ;  and  remember  the  coat-of-arms  of  Lord  Exmouth, 
on  which  "was  emblazoned  a  figure  never  before  known 
in  heraldry, — a  Christian  slave  holding  aloft  the  cross, 
and  dropping  Itis  broken  fetters ."  Happy,  indeed,  is  he 
whose  name  is  forever  linked  with  the  eternal  ideas  of 
freedom  and  justice ! 

The  lofty  and  permanent  lesson  which  remains  with 
us  from  the  life  of  Senator  SUMNER  is  one  peculiarly 
needed  in  our  time, — that  of  independent  loyalty  to  the 
best  conscience.  Whatever  else  fails,  that  cannot  fail. 
Not  always  does  success  come ;  not  always  do  the 
wonderful  forces  of  public  awakening,  the  madness  of 


SERMON   BY   HENTIY    W.    FOOTE.  311 

enemies,  the  awful  arbitrament  of  war,  justify  the  polit 
ical  seer  with  the  attainment  of  his  vision.  "Prophets 
and  kings  have  died  without  the  sight."  But  for  fame, 
as  well  as  for  one's  own  inward  peace,  the  surest  war 
rant  is  the  boldest  venture.  Trust  in  the  eternal  truths 
of  conscience  and  duty  and  God !  The  sober  wisdom 
of  that  homely  precept  of  one  of  our  great  poets, 
"Hitch  your  wagon  to  a  star,"  will  be  acknowledged  in 
the  end. 

Who  now  remembers,  in  his  dispraise,  that  John 
Milton  staked  his  all  on  a  losing  cause,  that  he  was  an 
extremist  and  a  fanatic,  that  he  spoke  hot  and  bitter 
words  against  the  enemies  of  his  party?  But  that 
which  shines  in  him  is  the  pure  and  lofty  spirit,  the 
consecration  of  great  powers  to  his  country's  service  in 
a  time  of  storm, — putting  aside  the  plans  of  quiet  study 
and  literary  ease,-— the  great  pleadings  for  liberty  and 
righteousness,  the  soul  that  "  was  like  a  star  and  dwelt 
apart." 

We  learn,  by  contrast  with  those  things  which  in  the 
presence  of  great  death  compel  our  reverence,  what  are 
the  dangers  of  the  land.  What  kind  of  man  is  he 
whose  public  service  will  prove  the  public  servitude, 
and  will  drag  a  nation  towards  its  fall?  We  have 
already  described  him  by  opposites.  He  will  be  one 
educated  enough  to  know  the  evil  side  of  men,  able 
enough  to  compel  their  reluctant  help,  wise  in  the 
secrets  of  corruption,  who  has  grown  rich  from  the 
misfortunes  of  his  country,  who  mounts  to  power  over 
heaps  of  blackened  reputations,  and  uses  every  office 


312  CHARLES   SUMKEB. 

but  as  a  round  in  the  ladder  of  his  ambition ;  who  rules 
by  fear,  yet  whose  friendship  is  even  more  blasting 
than  his  hatred.  Detected  again  and  again  in  wiles 
which  would  wreck  the  good  name  of  better  men,  he 
will  almost  persuade  the  multitude  to  believe  his  shame 
to  be  a  new  form  of  virtue.  If  ever  such  a  man  should 
come,  woe  to  the  nation  which  he  tricks  towards  its 
doom!  for  then,  indeed,  "Politics  become  a  game,  and 
principles  are  the  counters  which  are  used." 

But  such  men  would  have  little  power  of  evil  in  a 
country,  if  there  did  not  exist  grave  elements  of  danger 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  time,  in  those  murky  disposi 
tions  of  the  public  mind  to  which  they  act  as  the  light 
ning-rod  on  a  lowering  thunder-cloud,  to  draw  the  fatal 
shock.  First  among  these,  we  must  name  the  worship 
of  money  for  money's  own  sake.  So  long  as  men  and 
women  believe  that  this  has  any  worth  in  itself,  apart 
from  the  question  how  it  has  been  won,  and  will  let 
foul  gains  win  a  fair  name,  teaching  their  children  by 
precept  to  seek  above  all  things  to  be  honest,  and  by 
practice  to  seek  above  all  things  to  be  rich ;  so  long  as 
they  fear  the  wholesome  frugality  of  our  incorrupt 
ancestors  more  than  they  fear  dishonor,  and  add  a 
double  bribe  to  the  temptation  to  get  wealth  in  doubtful 
ways,  by  respecting  it  after  it  is  so  got;  when  the 
prizes  of  political  preferment  are  gilded  with  unclean 
perquisites,  and  leaders  high  in  place  sway  the  nation 
through  the  purse-strings  of  their  base  tools  and  batten 
on  the  spoils  of  industry ;  so  long  as  a  considerable 
part  of  mankind  look  leniently  on  Judas,  because  he 
carried  the  bag,  we  may  well  be  thankful  for  one 


SERMON  BY  HENRY  W.  FOOTE.       313 

example  for  lofty  integrity,  so  pure  and  high  that  he 
could  say,  "People  talk  about  the  corruption  of  Wash 
ington  :  I  have  lived  here  all  these  years  and  have  seen 
nothing  of  it," — so  true  that  no  slander  dared  sully  his 
reputation  with  the  suspicion  of  a  bribe. 

And  then  there  is  the  worship  of  power  for  power's 
own  sake.  Forgetting  that  ability,  apart  from  moral 
gifts,  is  the  sharpest  cutting-tool,  sure  to  turn  in  the 
hand  that  uses  it  unless  it  is  grasped  by  firm  principle, 
our  people  are  tempted  to  idolize  the  very  qualities  by 
which  the  angels  fell,  and  in  which  the  chief  of  fallen 
angels  is  also  chief.  They  count  impudence  and  brazen 
audacity  a  sign  of  power ;  but  do  they  think  what 
power  mere  unscrupulousness  may  give  a  man?  The 
moment  he  flings  honor  and  decency  to  the  winds,  his 
power  for  evil  in  word  and  deed  is  multiplied  tenfold. 
What  then?  Shall  we  straightway  make  the  lack  of 
scruple  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues,  and  teach  our  chil 
dren  to  take  the  " Not"  out  of  the  ten  commandments? 
Or  shall  we  turn  again  to  the  reassuring  thought  of  a 
man  of  state  who  could  hold  high  office  for  nearly  a 
generation ;  whose  motto  was  those  words  of  Story, 
"No  man  ever  stands  in  the  way  of  another";  whom, 
having  held  such  office,  none  accuse  of  turning  it  into 
an  engine  for  private  advantage ;  who  sought  sincerely 
to  make  the  ends  he  aimed  at  in  it  his  "country's, 
God's,  and  truth's";  who  believed  himself  the  servant, 
not  the  master,  of  the  Commonwealth,  whose  honors 
sought  him,  and  were  unmarketed  as  they  were  uii- 
bought? 

And  yet  again  we  are    in  danger   of   disbelief  in<  the 

40 


314  CHARLES    SUMNER. 

honor  of  the  honorable.  In  the  hot  and  heavy  fumes 
of  accusation  and  of  proven  failure  to  do  clear  duty 
which  befog  the  air,  when  great  names  are  tarnished  and 
honors  well  earned  are  cheaply  lost,  the  tempter  whispers 
that  it  is  so  the  world  over,— "  There  is  none  upright ; 
no,  not  one."  Who  shall  measure  the  inspiration  which 
there  is  in  such  an  hour  in  the  unspotted  example  of  a 
great  integrity  towering  above  the  mean  rivalries  and 
small  ambitions  of  petty  greatness  as  a  rocky  New 
England  summit  towers  over  the  surrounding  plain? 

And  if  we  are  tempted  to  be  discouraged,  seeing  a 
wide  distrust  of  educated  skill ;  that  the  community  is 
prone  to  think  that  statecraft  comes  by  nature  or  in  flat 
tering  the  mob ;  that  it  is  often  slow  to  seek  the  service 
of  the  best-trained  gifts,  and  hasty  to  condemn  the 
long-tried  and  upright  public  servant ; — there  is  at  least 
the  alleviation  of  seeing  it  wake  to  a  sense  of  its  loss 
when  one  of  its  best-furnished  and  most  faithful  goes 
out  of  the  contumely  and  fickleness  of  these  earthly 
noises  to  where  the  silence  is  broken  only  by  God's 
"Well  done!" 

There  is,  I  know,  a  theory  which  writes  a  new  moral 
law  of  party  obligations,  and  makes  infraction  of  those 
behests  one  of  the  deadly  sins.  According  to  this  view, 
it  is  enough  that  men  claim  to  represent  the  moral 
sentiment  of  the  country,  to  enable  them  to  communicate 
a  sort  of  grace  to  any  sinner  whom  they  may  sanctify 
by  a  nomination  for  office.  The  Church  of  Rome  is 
sometimes  accused  of  holding  that  a  priest,  though  a  bad 
man,  can  equally  administer  the  sacraments  ;  and  there 
are,  those  who  hold  that  if  duly  named  for  the  place, 


SERMON  BY  HENRY  W.  FOOTE.       315 

the  most  corrupt  man  is  fitted  to  become  a  high-priest 
in  the  nation's  temple ;  there  are  those  who  hold  that 
we  elect  men  to  keep  the  national  conscience  and  are 
absolved  from  any  public  duty  but  doing  as  we  are  told. 
When  we  thus  sell  ourselves  for  nothing  to  the  will  of 
power,  farewell  indeed  to  the  hope  of  our  high  heritage 
from  God  !  If  it  were  so,  the  free  spirit  might  well  say 
with  Lacordaire,  "I  am  forced  to  leave  the  scene  by  a 
secret  instinct  of  my  liberty,  in  presence  of  an  age  which 
had  no  longer  all  its  own.  I  saw  that  in  my  ideas,  in 
my  language,  and  in  my  past,  I  also  was  at  liberty,  and 
that  my  time  was  come  for  disappearing  like  the  rest." 

But  it  is  not  so.  Christian  men  and  women,  who 
have  to  do  with  forming  the  better  mind  of  the  Repub 
lic,  see  to  it  that  you  do  your  part  to  scatter  these 
miasmatic  vapors  which  threaten  to  stifle  our  best  life, 
— and  all  will  yet  be  well.  Hold  up  afresh  a  higher 
standard  of  duty  before  others ;  hold  to  it  those  whom 
you  place  in  power, — and  test  their  claims  by  it;  and 
that  you  may  do  so  consistently,  hold  yourself  to  it. 
Enforce  the  Christian  law  of  conscience,  as  personal  in 
public  as  in  private  duty.  Honor,  as  the  great  outburst 
of  popular  respect  has  honored,  the  man  who  tries  to 
do  his  duty. 

Ah,  to  what  wholesome  lessons  does  the  event  bring  us 
back,  whose  shadow  is  still  over  us  !  I  end  as  I  began  : 
death  teaches  us  much  that  life  could  never  teach ; — 
the  great  and  solemn  lesson  of  charity,  that  searching 
spirit  of  love  which  will  find  the  truth  in  a  man  and 
hold  it  fast,  and  help  it  in  all  its  strong  and  radiant 
power;  the  faith  in  the  ultimate  victory  of  the  truth, 


316  CHARLES    SUMNEK. 

which  will  count  all  else  loss  if  we  can  only  lose  our 
selves  in  that  triumphant,  much-enduring  service ;  the 
trust  in  character,  in  that  rocky  faithfulness  to  one's  best 
and  deepest  convictions,  which 

"Obeys  the  voice  at  eve 
Obeyed  at  prime.1" 

And  this  is  the  meaning  of  that  wonderful  outpouring 
of  the  great  heart  of  a  Commonwealth  which  we  our 
selves  have  seen. 

"  And  they  buried  him  in  the  city  of  David  among 
the  kings,  because  he  had  done  good  in  Israel,  both 
toward  God  and  toward  his  house ; "  w  and  all  Israel 
mourned  for  him,  according  to  the  word  of  the  Lord." 


CHARLES    SUMMER. 


Born  in  Boston,  January  6,  18H. 
Entered  Harvard  College,  1826;   Graduated,  1830. 

Admitted  to  the  Bar,  1834. 

Elected  United  States  Senator,  1851  ;  Re-elected,  1857,  1863,  1869. 

Died  in  Washington,  March  H,   1874. 

Buried  in   Mount  Auburn, 

March  16,  1874. 


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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

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N9  528783 

Mas  sacht:  setts .  General 
Court.  Joint  Special 
Committee  on  Sumner 
Memorial. 

A  memorial  o^  Charles 
Sumner. 


EU15.9 

S9 

MU 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
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